People sink your boat
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When you cut a tragic figure
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They drink their lemonade
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And throw you a line
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Boil your problem down
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To yes or no, what's the matter?
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They bomb your promenade
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And this makes it shine
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So you must play the comic
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If they want one
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And describe their moment
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When they're in one
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People pass you by
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Passing up the chance to know you
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They're irregular
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In the usual way
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You should crack a smile
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Once in a while, it makes you pretty
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It makes you want to give them
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A piece of your mind
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But they can't be people
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Not if I'm one
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If I have to be like them
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I'd rather be no one
|
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Couldn't make the scene
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Not with all the people looking
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All these connoisseurs
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On guard all the time
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Rather spend the day
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Blank as hell by the window
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Looking out of my
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Stained glass eyes
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La la la la la la la la la . . .
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-----------------
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Stained Glass Eyes
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| Elliott Smith |
