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chill easy listening post-disco

Drums: John Warrington

Lyrics:
Breakdown in the square.
Break away from all the serendipitous despair.
Rundown on the street.
Oh it's just- we've got another. Swat cars, replay; it's a runner!
Turn your hand into a gun, and your mind into the sun.
East coast racer; hand it down. Gazer of this fireproof crown.

Maybe one day you'll see how much reason talks.
Maybe they know. Nobody listens. Nobody cares. When your lips move they hear bohemian coins.

Maybe one day you'll see how much these vibes live; under your breath.
It's a good reason to make a friend. Oh they're all the same; they just want all you can give!

Find her. You need this.
It's the century man, I can never tell the year.
Gifted, in your hands, powers to your cousin fever. Empty dreams and hallelujah.

Something about you. Something about you maybe.
Something about you. Something about you maybe.

And all of my fears- I can rest easy now, with the benefit of the doubt.
All of fears... yeah, yeah you're laughing.

I could never tell, what the difference was between an end and a farewell.
Instinct, on command.
The touch of life, the kid is healed. The crutches all but stagger.
zincograph of modern art, engraved on this zealots heart.
Which way to Black Cobra Hall?

You know it says something about who you are, when you weren't there. You didn't hear them, say what they are.
Say what you want; you couldn't teach me a thing.

There was a day when I used to care. When there was hope. Now there's insurance. Call it the same. Oh call me a fool. Your heterodox isn't real.

Something about you. Something about you maybe.
Something about you. Something about you maybe.

And all of my fears... all of my fears are gone. With the benefit of the doubt.

And they attack me. And they attack me, when they don't understand. They don't understand at all.
And with the melody of a thousand worlds, with your lochen-like recreation room, it takes hues and ribbons to tell you who you are.

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