Some people got: more kicks than halfpence
|
And cry for attention, like cracks in the pavement
|
And all of this pointed, like perfect TV
|
When you're sowing the wind, you reap the whirlwind
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
Who gets the mansions - we get the ruins
|
Same old story
|
Your flexible nature, serving no purpose
|
Like a terrible artist, using no shadow
|
And the king of the castle, is pulling new shapes
|
Gilding the lilies, and all of them fakes
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
Typical tragic, small house and small street
|
Narrow the outlook, small minded complete
|
The emperor's new clothes, get clearer and clearer
|
Dictate to the fingers, that tighten the trigger
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
And the king of the castle is pulling new shapes
|
Life is a poison, it begins at home
|
Pride is a trinket, a security blanket
|
You could tangle the spiders on the webs that we weave
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
-----------------
|
Same Old Story
|
| Public Image Limited |
