6 acessos
You said you wouldn't let it go to your head
The spotlight has added ten pounds to it
Self accolades are self defeating
You're a bad magic act, an old riff rehashed
You're no pioneer
Who will you be tomorrow?
The cards you were holding bore a royal flush
The crowd thought you insightful
I thought they were nuts
I cringe at the sight of your grand finale
You contort yourself to the crowd take a well deserved bow
Who will you be tomorrow?
Every time the seasons changeI get that uncertain sting
You haven't learned a thing
You're not remembering
Your new friends, they're not pioneers
You're no pioneer