Billy Druids face is marble
|
He keeps veery thought in its place
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He lets the days turn tomorrow
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Someone's always walking
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on his grave
|
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He wears the lines just like Garbo
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And talks at a saturmine pace
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Listening to the strange notes marvel
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Only giving what it takes
|
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It's a sad man's world
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And for Billy it's sure to crown
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Dragging beauty into darkness
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Inflciting a pale white frown
|
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And the matter the runs
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Through Billy's head
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Is too concerned to fall
|
|
-----------------
|
Strange Notes
|
| Germs |
