Print

Tired epileptic charade Get on the plane and fly away I knew you when I knew you when You had something to say The Twentieth Century Has not been particularly kind to me So when asked to define You feign the benign And decline to answer properly You feel threatened now There's other icons flying higher now As you grab for the past You know it won't last There's no need to describe it I hope someone else is driving you I hope someone else intelligent is driving you Now the myth disintegrates Nothing else is permanent From Letras Mania