|
Say I won't forget something that no one knows, |
|
diffuse the day again. |
|
Say that I'll be fine, I'll step on no one's toes |
|
but every now and then. |
|
The ribbons cut with rusty blades: |
|
just a minor imperfection. |
|
And what should be a golden age |
|
starts to waver on its axis |
|
Crash, burn, don't fade away. |
|
Those days are gone |
|
we said so long. |
|
Covered wagons carry on. |
|
You'll never see a cloudy days, |
|
crash, burn, don't fade away. |
|
Say that I don't need you when I couldn't resist, |
|
I'm underneath your spell. |
|
Reaching for a place where you and I can exist |
|
but only time will tell. |
|
Far across the fertile plains |
|
there's a golden age a brewin'. |
|
Conestoga wagon train |
|
prone to recklessness and ruin. |
|
Crash, burn, don't fade away. |
|
Those days are gone |
|
we said so long. |
|
Covered wagons carry on. |
|
Trojan horse; instant replay. |
|
Crash, burn, don't fade away. |
|
Those days are gone |
|
we said so long. |
|
The check is in the mail, right on. |
|
You'll never see a cloudy day. |
|
Crash, burn, don't fade away. |