If you're keeping score, then you're bound to win
|
A bird's eye view of a burning bridge
|
You come through ghost towns set on pause
|
Hoping the risk was worth the cost
|
|
Whoa
|
Sound off the false alarm
|
Whoa
|
|
But I'll make my own colleague
|
From wood and from ivory
|
And reap the rewards of proximity
|
I'll assemble my equal
|
From what I lack and require
|
And gather what's left unaccompanied
|
|
It smells like disaster
|
It looks like a trap
|
So go by the wayside
|
And never look back
|
|
If you could spare me 40 winks
|
While you cried wolf and I count sheep
|
What good are ghosts in Kevlar vests
|
With backbones like a jellyfish
|
|
Whoa
|
Stomp on your land again
|
Whoa
|
|
But I'll make my own colleague
|
From wood and from ivory
|
And reap the rewards of proximity
|
I'll assemble my equal
|
From what I lack and require
|
And gather what's left unaccompanied
|
|
It smells like disaster
|
It looks like a trap
|
So go by the wayside
|
And never look back
|
|
If you're keeping score, then you're bound to win
|
A ringside seat at the main event
|
|
Whoa
|
Stomp on your land again
|
Whoa
|
|
It smells like disaster
|
It looks like a trap
|
So go by the wayside
|
And never look back
|
|
It smells like disaster
|
Thank God I can Smell
|
Let go by the wayside
|
I'll never look back
|
|
-----------------
|
Wolf Descends Upon The Spanish Sahara
|
| Fair To Midland |
