McDonald
He wants to write words down
On pieces of paper
Recording them now
And recalling them later.
It remains a mystery
The pages of history
Outlasted the passing
Of things that were dear to me.
Those wonderful children
With bright shining faces
They waltzed in the halls
And they marched in their places
The darlings of dancing,
And spinning, and reeling.
Look into their eyes
To see what they're feeling.
It's almost too much for him
Bearing the cross he's carrying.
It's almost too much for him
Wearing the face he's wearing.
Why don't you change your style ?
Why don't you change your style ?
Why don't you change your style ? 
He wants to find men
Who can love for no reason,
Who open their hearts
To life of all seasons
But they've all gone, it seems
Off in their limousines—
I want to live where men
Can believe their dreams.
It's almost too much for him
Bearing this cross I'm carrying.
It's almost too much for him
Wearing this face I'm wearing.
Why don't you change your style ?
Think I'll change my style.
Why don't you change your style ?
Think I'll change my style.
Why don't you change your style ?
Change
Why don't you change your style ?
Change...