The girls won't touch me. 'cause I've got a misdirection. Living at night isn't helping my complexion. The signs all saying it's a social infection. A little bit of fun's never been an insurrection.
I ride a street wave right by her side. And I can hear the city city comin' round. The things I say hit the air and seem to fall apart. And I can see the faces faces fallin' down.
Down to the bus. Into the town. Our poor boy can't get around. Eight fifty-five. Down at the show. She leaves early. He'll never know. 'Cause our poor boy.
Flew off early in the haze of dawn. in a metal dragon locked in time,. skimming waves of an underground sea. in some kind of a dream world fantasy. . 30 seconds,.