Hearing the babble of laughter, I'll join your friends and come over, So many faces I don't know, when everyone soars why I feel low. This must be somebody's nightmare, where is the fun in this "funfair" The debris of dreams haunts the showground, I'll lie low and wait for a showdown But it's not me, we all agree, Things seem to work this way, Sunday 'til Saturday, Veils of bright beauty hide visions obscene, and tired old excuses for current abuses, means no-one will say what they mean Sometimes I wish we were all dumb, No falsehoods could drip from this these false tongues, Sometimes I feel there's no virtue, The smallest of things tend to hurt you No need to make reservations, this train leaves at six from this station, We'll learn how to walk then to tumble, to swagger is worse than to stumbleTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
