I'm grateful for these things
|
These things are grateful for me but
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These gifts are plagues
|
These plagues are candy coated
|
I only hope it brings
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A smile and all the other
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Little useless things
|
But these hands are tied to an arm
|
And to an eye that won't abide
|
|
I'm not doing that well today
|
And self control was never my forte
|
So I call a friend
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Jesus with a pager and Mercedes Benz
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Cuz there's a limit to ourselves
|
And all the games we play
|
It's metaphor we use to define our day
|
It's only rhythm
|
It's only sound
|
But we're not accustomed to the tempo
|
And we find it too loud
|
And all the timea˘ć|
|
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You look like a star
|
And I talk like a fool
|
I'm delivering idiots and photographs
|
It makes me look cool
|
|
I'm doing much better today
|
It's just harder to focus
|
On the things that I hate
|
I'm not too worried cuz I know
|
I'll get my vision back
|
Then at least I'll have a weapon
|
To defend these attacks
|
|
If I could only find a filter
|
For these tricks
|
Then I could bury the riddles deep
|
Deep in the mix
|
It's not the lines
|
It's more the tones
|
More often it's the volume
|
That can make it hit home
|
|
It's not the songs
|
That determine if the record sells
|
It's the faces in the videos
|
that we know so well
|
It's the push from the whores
|
In leather chairs
|
They package our emotions
|
And they market our fears
|
And the rise to the top is a fall from below
|
|
I've never been one to see writing on walls
|
Still you call me crazy
|
Don't walk on in don't expect me to listen
|
Don't you try to save me
|
|
Because I'm too suspicious of long
|
Explanations that
|
Make you feel like
|
You've really reached me
|
I'm changing my ways I believe
|
|
Don't talk about
|
What happened 14 hours ago
|
It's ok if you smile
|
But please
|
|
-----------------
|
Delivering Idiots
|
| Stabilo |
