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Ahhh None can pull the passion loose from youths ungrateful hands As it stands, I'm about to make a lot of money Gold harps in the pan None can revolution lead with selfish needs aside As I cried, I'm about to make a lot of money Gold harps on the side Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real? The winter evening settles now The bruised & beat up open sky, six o'clock The city in its final dress And now a gusty shower wraps the grimy scraps Of withered leaves all about your feet And then the wringing of a twitching hand Six o'clock, six o'clock Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real Letras de cancionesIs it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? None can pull the passion loose from youths ungrateful hands As it stands, I'm about to make a lot of money Gold harps in the pan None can revolution lead with selfish needs aside As I climb, I'm about to make a lot of money Goes around & around & around Oh ye boya Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? Is it too real for ya? From Letras Mania