There was a man that knew too much
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With a panic attic mind but a chance to numb
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His golden touch to ignore the will of time
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Had me struck down open to the fact
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I was standing in a line with a broken occupation on my back
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Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
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There's nothing left to say it's changing every day
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The way I'm thinking in different shades of grey
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It's not enough to say that this is my love
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He had the anti midas touch
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Temporary state of mind
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But a chance to die enhances growth
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Now I'm trembling all the time
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Stumble round making faces on the scene
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Scene what what
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Stumble round make your faces on your own
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Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
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There's nothing left to say it's changing every day
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The way I'm thinking in different shades of grey
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It's not enough to say that this is my love
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I'm not your mocking bird
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That sings your cellar song
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She got a paper run
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You're compensated
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Can we all gather round on the scene
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Can we all move around on our own
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Are ya a mover shaker all alone
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Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
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There's nothing left to say it's changing every day
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The way I'm thinking in different shades of grey
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It's not enough to say
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Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
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There's nothing left to say but this is my love
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I'm not your mocking bird
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That sings your cellar song
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She got a paper run to write your letters wrong
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-----------------
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The Man That Knew Too Much
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| Silverchair |
