|
On a long and winding grey paved street |
|
Your breath the only friend |
|
Chattering others surrounding you |
|
You're going out again |
|
It's a laugh and a gas new crowd |
|
You tell yourself |
|
While buttoning up a new red shirt |
|
It's been a twenty years of doing this |
|
Just the same night into night |
|
Day into day with your preset mind |
|
Wake up with a preset mind |
|
With no self control |
|
And you decide to call the |
|
Roll Call |
|
Of the socialites who mortified |
|
Can't see as far as their next surprise |
|
Yah, happy with nothing but the sweet |
|
F.A. of the night |
|
Believing that they're alive and well |
|
But if asked |
|
They have nothing to tell |
|
Except the words of a clashing rhyme |
|
I'll calmed and out of sync |
|
Even real sounds like a zero |
|
To a brain in lip sync |
|
Roll' On a long and winding grey paved street |
|
Your breath the only friend |
|
Chattering others surrounding you |
|
You're going out again |
|
It's a laugh and a gas new crowd |
|
You tell yourself |
|
While buttoning up a new red shirt |
|
It's been a twenty years of doing this |
|
Just the same night into night |
|
Day into day |
|
Forget your preset mind |
|
Roll to the end |
