life has teeth, and bites the feeding open hand
you wanna be in a band?
I got to feeling, I got too much, too soon, too fucked up I don’t know
I got to get to the show
well… what have I got to do?
what have I got to do to get through to you?
well… what have I got to do?
what have I got to do to get next to you?
like a telephone call would do, fuck it
CHORUS:
everlone, everlone
a thousand fake heroes appear at the throne (of)
everlone, into the great unknown
leaving it all to fade for a while
’til the fire in my eyes passes by
when ideas run out, any fool can make a fist
I got the will to resist
I got the power of one, the fear of none, the arms to judge a man
I bet you don’t understand
well… what have I got to do?
what have I got to do to get through to you?
well… what have I got to do?
what have I got to do to get next to you?
like a telephone call would do, fuck it
CHORUS
passes by — like a train, like the strangers all around
passes by — like a pain, like the only friend I’ve found
but if you mix self-confidence with some common sense
maybe then you’ll realise you touch me never, never, ever…
(… ever (x7))
CHORUS
