Cold, cold 1950. A year from now I'll be away. A year from now you'll hear from me. My chin on the water in the darkest time. I'll cut through country, country bound. With foot in mouth before th
Maybe, mabe in a lifetime the ones that we will resurrect. My monument immortal but tarnished I suspect. That holdes my generations failures put to song. The jail cell holding all our years undone.
We live our lives so proud of nothing. Nothing like the stillness in the air. We're losing everything we've worked for. And soon there will be nothing left to share. Do we still care?. . Chorus.
Shake and stir yourself into a bad excuse. A half-hearted * you. Imagine all the nowhere places we'd have been. And all the cynicism aside, and let me try to turn these awful words. Into a cure, n
In my wonder I can weigh. the loss that we all had to suffer. felt in headaches from the knowing. that our heroes lives uncovered. to be seen as they'd always been. nothing but a boring shade of
