Apartment in New York, London and Paris Where will we rest, we're all living on top of it It's all that we have the USA our daily bread And no one is willing to share it
Why can't we see our fortunancy Living as legends have lived Bane and dismannered We coax all the time Knowing that nothing is left when we die
Come along Fool, A direct hit to the sense you're disconnected It's not that it's bad, it's not that it's death It's just that it's on the tip of your tongue and you're so silent
Wanting to live and laugh all the time Sitting alone with you tea and your crime Children with kids and people with parents Any which way there's no past and no present When the day comes and all of them bums Will reveal enchanting persons
Come along Fool, A direct hit to the sense you're disconnected It's not that it's bad, it's not that it's death It's just that it's on the tip of your tongue and you're so silent
When it's a rut and baby's no luck Half of it's misunderstanding love The war we have won we're winning again Within ourselves and within our friends
Come along Fool, A direct hit to the sense you're disconnected It's not that it's bad, it's not that it's death It's just that it's on the tip of your tongue and you're so silent