The literati in their cellarsPerform semantic tarantellas.I wish I did it half as well as them.
We measure our days out in steps of uncertainty not turning to see how far we've come. And peer down the highway from here to eternity and reach out for love on the run.
I know there's a big bad world out there, but I rarely come across it.
Nothing that's forced can ever be right, if it doesn't come naturally, leave it.
You reach out your hand, but you're all alone, in those time passages.
Only two to three per cent of an audience is interested in words and pays attention to lyrics; most of the rest of it is about image or the beat or the sound, or else it's a tribal thing - country & western, rap, heavy metal, with historical folk rock off in some kind of cult.