3 acessos
Like confession whispered slowly
Hate's a word that's spoken softly
Horror fills his pretty scrapbook
A massacre won't change his outlook
Oh man of straw
Sheltered in his cut out life style
If time were small he'd be a sundial
Hope wrung dry with values static
'save me', he cries, 'from these fanatics'
Standing lonely trusting no one
In disarray with collar undone
Kicked again he counts his blessings
But with no brain he's always guessing
Standing lonely trusting no one
In disarray with collar undone
Like confession whispered slowly
Hate's a word that's spoken softly
Like confession whispered slowly
Hate's a word that's spoken softly
Standing lonely trusting no one
In disarray with collar undone
Horror fills his pretty scrapbook
But with no brain he's always guessing