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Broughton |
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Talking; one way is an interrogation, Make it two ways, |
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you've got a conversation But three ways makes for a |
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controntahon Ain't that rich? Because the odd number |
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makes for separation And separation leads to |
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fragmentation And before too long you're back to the |
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first situation, Ain't that a bitch? It's spinning me round |
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and round It's like losing your way in a crowd, Losing |
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your way . . . losing your way. |
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(Chorus) |
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I feel we're moving in circles, |
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Ot which we have no undersv nding. |
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Weaving spirals but leaving no trace. |
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I can't get used to the strange eerie feeling |
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Ot moving in circles |
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I can't wipe the smile off my face. |
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Changing; one way is by revolution |
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When it seems the only to way to change the constitution |
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It takes too long for natural evolution |
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Ain't that rich? |
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(Before too long there's retribution, it's all part of the institution). |
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But it seems like a case of plain substitution, |
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When self-delusion leads to persecution |
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And before too long you're back to the first solution |
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Ain't that a bitch? |
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It's spinning me round and round |
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It's like losing your way in a crowd |
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Losing your way . . . losing your way. |
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(Chorus) |
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I feel we're moving in circles |
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Ot which we have no understanding |
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Weaving spirals but leaving no trace. |
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I can't get used to the strange eerie feeling |
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Of moving in circles. |
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I can't wipe the smile off my face. |
