| Song | The Fool's Fooling Himself |
| Artist | Scott Matthews |
| Album | Passing Stranger |
| 作曲 : Matthews | |
| Oh, fair child, | |
| Why the hell with the innocent smile? | |
| In a dream state | |
| Felt his breath blowin' right out the gate. | |
| Looks in disbelief. | |
| Seen his life from a-way down the street. | |
| Finds it hard to breathe | |
| When you're in shock from the jealous thief, yey hey. | |
| I only wince at your hell. | |
| I was paid to except what was dead. | |
| Like a fool | |
| I been foolin' myself. | |
| Fool like no one else. | |
| I'll be there more as, | |
| Losin' all control for sure, | |
| I'm in debt with pain. | |
| I can't bleed no more. | |
| If the morning sun | |
| Fills your eyes and it's sunnin' you, lord. | |
| See the clown's face | |
| Raise a smile to the cries that he hates. | |
| Only time will tell | |
| If the rose isn't red anymore, | |
| And expressions are blank, | |
| Then you'll know who to thank, | |
| Who to thank, who to thank. | |
| I only wince at your hell. | |
| I was paid to except what was dead. | |
| Like a fool | |
| I been foolin' myself. | |
| Fool like no one else. | |
| I'll be there more as, | |
| Losin' all control for sure, | |
| I'm in debt with pain. | |
| I can't bleed no more. |
| zuò qǔ : Matthews | |
| Oh, fair child, | |
| Why the hell with the innocent smile? | |
| In a dream state | |
| Felt his breath blowin' right out the gate. | |
| Looks in disbelief. | |
| Seen his life from away down the street. | |
| Finds it hard to breathe | |
| When you' re in shock from the jealous thief, yey hey. | |
| I only wince at your hell. | |
| I was paid to except what was dead. | |
| Like a fool | |
| I been foolin' myself. | |
| Fool like no one else. | |
| I' ll be there more as, | |
| Losin' all control for sure, | |
| I' m in debt with pain. | |
| I can' t bleed no more. | |
| If the morning sun | |
| Fills your eyes and it' s sunnin' you, lord. | |
| See the clown' s face | |
| Raise a smile to the cries that he hates. | |
| Only time will tell | |
| If the rose isn' t red anymore, | |
| And expressions are blank, | |
| Then you' ll know who to thank, | |
| Who to thank, who to thank. | |
| I only wince at your hell. | |
| I was paid to except what was dead. | |
| Like a fool | |
| I been foolin' myself. | |
| Fool like no one else. | |
| I' ll be there more as, | |
| Losin' all control for sure, | |
| I' m in debt with pain. | |
| I can' t bleed no more. |