(Difford/Tilbrook)
|
|
Up in the morning
|
Politely yawning
|
There's frost on the roof of the car
|
First cigarette puffs
|
Gold links in my cuffs
|
Egg on the shirt of my heart
|
|
Fingerprints in the dust with my name
|
Squint my eyes to see from my fame
|
Spot the words that fall from my lines
|
The deafness hides the light from the blind
|
|
Stop starting journey
|
The road returns me
|
Back to the world in the evening
|
The stage rehearsals
|
Voice on the circles
|
Blah blah my way to the celing
|
|
I can't see the walls from the chairs
|
Are there people sitting out there
|
Feed me with a frown or a laugh
|
Featureless the faces that ask
|
|
Tonight I'm cracking
|
I'm murder acting
|
Footlit the visual of my lines
|
I'll smoke and drink it
|
I'll eat and think it
|
Miserable the murder plot unwinds
|
|
-----------------
|
Here Comes That Feeling
|
| Squeeze |