Guns fire for the rat race
I stumble on my suitcase
The crowd is frozen now
and I am slipping on their ice
Drive backwards down the highway
trees bending through the light rays
I see it now OK
I won't be trampled by my thoughts
Teeth twisting in the heatwave
Day dreaming of a clean wave
I see it go away
My thoughts are sleeping in the dust
until another day
I'll let them curl up in the rust
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Rat Race von Fuzz gefällt:
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