Поэты осени - Fire | Текст песни

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• Поэты осени
• Fire

It's a bit like a trip
but you hit it with a slip
of a tongue, like a whip,
and we're sinking,
it ain't cool to be cool,
though you may think it a laudable tool
of self evaluation,
of ego cultivation,

n' I'm rolling my eyes
like the stones for the lies,
is it really all about the size
or just a simple vice...

Oh, and it makes the news
Oh, cos it sings the blues

I feel the fire flare alight inside me
Higher so I can see
N' aspire to survive this fight in spite of
Liars and travesty
Oh fire

Did you think that I'd blink,
that I'd go and take the ink
to your control,
that I'd sell my soul,
and does it ring any bells
that it sells
that we're living out
of shells in a shotgun,

if we couldn't shoot, we'd have to run,
and finally the cerebral fantasy,
better genes and machines,
so we can die looking like we're teens,
like snapshot scenes in smithereens...

Oh, and the ones we choose
Oh, witch hunting fools

I feel the fire...

Look there it is in the news again, yeah
There it goes singing the blues again

Fire flare alight inside me...
Fire, return my joy cos I'm so
Tired, tired of me
Inspire the weary eyed to see the
Ire and Irony
Oh fire

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