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A Man. A Plan. A Canal. Panama.
Fall of Troy, The
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The turn of the century
That's turning out wrong!
No matter what words they say
You can rest assured!
The stinging wind
Surrounding is
Pulling strings
Clipping wings
I knew there was no time
We can dream
And speak through sleep
In our minds
Pick out the signs
I ruined all the lines!!
The turn of the century
That's turning out wrong!
No matter what words they say
You can rest assured!
She comes over to me
Takes a seat right across from the sea
She answers questions and pulls from the deep
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Calling out to the sun
To the sun
Freeze frames were intended
But lacking funds
If you knew you'd suffer
I'm making it up
Eyes that speak when feeling
Nothing's solved
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Lost my sense of direction
De-railed, eject, off the starboard side
Who am I to demand their lives?
Their fate is mine, will I survive?!
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So sweet you called, but I won't answer
Force-feed your ego compactor
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So sweet you called, but I won't answer
Force-feed your ego compactor and let go!
Let go!
If my reputation precedes me
Then I'm staying here comatose
You get your way, I'll get on mine
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Shutter at the sight of the front door
My heart might stop
As thin as innuendo I stare through her windows!
I play the night away!!
I play the night away!!
For fear of nothing to win!
You asked for my opinion, I'm keeping my hands to myself!!
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