Just like my father once told me, though he rarely was heard, he said : "Son, you gotta walk slower to reach this something you aiming for". Yet ,maybe, we're all too stubborn, can't simply chew and swallow the truth, aiming the closest point and blindly following.
It's just a simple, wicked game, and yet were gambling, to reach that hall of our own fame... and its fake from the core of it.
Seems that we've never needed a home just a place to stay-in, We can deal on our own, don't need no friends to lay on, On the bottom of empty glass, i hear my Old Man, and he's whispering to us: Boys, you gotta slow down...
(and last night i've tried to slow it down...)
And i had sort of confession last night, and now the better i sleep- the more nightmares expected, And i've tried to behave like nothing ever happened, but i confessed to myself - i'm only chasing the emptiness
Looks like we always needed home- but had just a place to stay-in, we can deal on our own but seek for the shoulder to lay on, And on the bottom of empty glass, i hear my Old Man, and he's whispering to us: Boys, you gotta slow down, oh boys you ought to slow down.