The turn of the century, that's turning out wrong.
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No matter what words they say, you can rest assured.
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The stinging wind, surrounding is.
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Pulling strings, and clipping wings, I knew there was no time.
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We can dream, and speak through sleep, and in our minds, pick out the signs.
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I ruined all the lines.
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The turn of the century, that's turning out wrong.
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No matter what words they say, you can rest assured.
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She comes over to me, and takes a seat right across from the sea.
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She answers questions and pulls from the deep.
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Calling out to the sun, to the sun.
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Freeze frames were intended, but lacking funds.
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If you knew you'd suffer. I'm making it up.
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Eyes that speak when feeling, nothing's solved.
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Lost my sense of direction, de-railed, eject, off the starboard side.
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Who am I to demand their lives? Their fate is mine.
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Will I survive?
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So sweet you called, but I won't answer...
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So sweet you called, but I won't answer...
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Force-feed your ego compactor...
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And let go! And let go!
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If my reputation precedes me,
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then I'm staying here comatose.
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You get your way, I'll get on mine!
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Shutter at the sight of the front door, my heart might stop.
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As thin as innuendo I stare through her windows.
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Play the night away, I play the night away for fear of nothing to win.
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You asked for my opinion? I'm keeping my hands to myself!
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-----------------
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A Man. A Plan. A Canal. Panama.
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| The Fall Of Troy |
