A break in time, flourescent sign.
How they listen I don’t know.
It’s a sympathetic show of cliched words to go,
a sale on four, and «S’s» in the eyes.
How they fake it I don’t know.
Fill my cup, it’s time to go.
And in the end, a twist of lime.
A reflection of a vintage delight.
And I’ve got plans of a cartoon life.
How I’ll get there I don’t know.
Burn the flag and take it slow around the edge that’s drilled inside your head.
The TV doesn’t lie.
How they listen I don’t know.
It’s a sympathetic show.
I’m taking pictures in my head.
The girls they look so nice in red.
I can’t believe the things you said concerning me and my life.
So good bye and good night.
I can’t believe the things that you said.
