Feeling the sway of the bridge beneath me I watch the windsock strain Stepping with care as though there's nothing beneath me, And I'm alone again
Taking the strain of the lateral movement My escape is clear; Follow the road to one of two directions Can I control my fear?
And I can feel it pulling, the paranoia's rife! There's nothing like a crisis in mid-life!
Feeling the weight of my divided passions Coming and going like rain Taking my chances in my predictable fashion As all my plans go down the drain
And I can feel it pulling, the paranoia's rife! Look in both directions, I'm balanced on the knife There's nothing like a crisis in mid-life!
The burble of canned music finds its way into my heart The soundtrack to the E.P.G., but I don't know where to start And all the people and all the humour And all the culture, all the music, all the things that we once knew Are wrapped in packets, twelve by twelve, on the shelves
When we were young we had songs for our problems We had the money to pay... Kids like us to write anthems for our teen years And blow our problems away
But now we're in the middle Our heroes bought houseboats with their wives There's no-one left to sing along with As we make the crossing of our middle lives There's nothing like a crisis in mid-lifeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
