Photography

Dancing in my underpants I’m gonna run for government I’m gonna form a covers band anorl (Stop) Back there by the baby grand Did Mr. Winter Wonderland Say, “Come ‘ere, kid, we really need to talk”? Bear with me, man, I lost my train of thought. I fantasise, I call it quits I swim with the economists And I get to the bottom of it for good By the time reality hits The chimes of freedom fell to bits The shining city on the fritz They come out of the cracks, thirsty for blood (Stop) Oh, just as the apocalypse finally gets prioritised And you cry some of the hottest tears you ever cried Multiplied by five I suppose a singer must die.