So I sit and I look at the sacred red lamp on the wall,
Hanging next to a picture of seven. Proclaimers installed
In the corner a book, some Victorian doctrine shrine.
Oh, it radiates love and then smothers the weak with its pride.
At the church I would sit just a boy with his hands on his head,
There's a blistering heat from the tales of the back seats they thread.
You could tell from the whispering women that stood there each day,
Tearing strips from the backs of unfortunate people,
You know what they say.
(Chorus)
But I'll tell you something that you'll never know,
I'll tell you something, you should let it show.
Always to win.
Always to win.
You have to lose sometime.
So I walk down the lane where the looks on their faces say all,
Dodging cracks in the doors, close my ears to the whispers,
I hide it so well.
So I smile to myself and keep asking the same questionnaire,
Should I let myself go, should I make myself known,
To a town that believes, anything that it wants to.
(Chorus)
I'll tell you something that you'll never know,
I'll tell you something, you should let it show.
Always to win.
Always to win.
I'll tell you something that you'll never know,
I'll tell you something, you should let it show.
Always to win.
Always to win.
And you give it all to me,
No need to turn around anymore.
You stripped me bare,
You stripped me bare.
No need to...
No need to, turn around anymore.
