- cifra
You know what makes me happy
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 the conscience
I try to hide the fact that I'm afraid
We'll drive the band to Shippensburg
And hope that we getplayed
And in the end of a season
The voices turn it all off
The things that were so meaningless
'Til the next one comesalong
I try to hide the fact that I'm afraid
We'll drive the band to Shippensburg
And hope that we getplayed
