The things that make you sad The feel that I controls absorbed by the radio jag I found my indecision The product of the media grime The feel that I control have you press rewind
And now I'm on the wings Hoping that you'll hear Don't bother to respond You love to hear me again And when the sun beams down all of your lies Close, close, yeah close the light
The sky's all grey in the barracks I know I'm a lousy hero The classic act of feeling is that of a memory
And you are peering down through parascopic eyes Close, close, yeah close (conscience)
I try to hide the fact that I'm afraid We'll drive the band to Shippensberg and hope that we get played
And in the end of a season the voices turn it all off The things that were so meaningless 'til the next one comes along
I try to hide the fact that I'm afraid We'll drive the band to Shippensberg and hope that we get played
Cky Shippensberg