|
Now is the time |
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To show that you care |
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You were offered hope |
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But you chose despair |
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Well you won't know what hit you |
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When it all comes down |
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You will crawl through the rubble |
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Of your one-horse town |
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But beware the false prophet |
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Who foretells of this doom |
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Sitting smug and complacent |
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In this mansion house room |
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Well he poisoned the bride then ran off with the groom |
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Now he travels by night 'neath a world weary moon |
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He's a wandering minstrel |
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In a bodily cut suit |
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Resplendent with afro |
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And electric lute |
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And he's speaking in riddles |
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And he's speaking in tongues |
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Whilst he plays through a fuzzbox |
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To an audience of one |
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And he's speaking in riddles |
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And he's speaking in tongues |
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But his words fall like snowflakes |
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Which melt in the sun |
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So now is the time |
|
To show that you care |
|
You were offered hope |
|
But you chose despair |
|
You were offered hope |
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So why choose despair? |
