Print

Out of your personal scripture, philomel, she comes You sing songs to everyone about love and law and guns But paint a dirtier picture And I think you know the one: you're not saving anyone You're not saving anyone Oh, just open your door Be a flaneur once more You're not walking anymore You're not talking anymore Overturning the strictures You leave yourself with none of your sinners to be saved Or your comforts that you crave It's a volatile mixture: the zealot and the rum So you knew it couldnt be won Still hard lost because hard run So here's to things that console And to at least knowing your role, and to never being done You're a rabbit on the run Ne, ne travaillez jamais: No, never work, that's what they say Mais ne, ne, ne, nous n'arretons pas: No, dont lets stop until it's done You're a rabbit on the run From Letras Mania