|
They say the storm's a one eyed fraud |
|
Its raging surface just an act |
|
There's little reason to applaud |
|
Such transparental deception |
|
And they tell you to shut your windows |
|
And they tell you to comb your hair |
|
Cause outside there be monsters |
|
And clothes you should not wear |
|
They say that your dreams will come to pass |
|
That we will all someday forget |
|
An ambition made of glass |
|
Such an arrogant perception |
|
And they tell you to shut your windows |
|
And they tell you to comb your hair |
|
Cause outside there be monsters |
|
And clothes you should not wear |
