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November 18, 2005 at 1:02pm
by Harry Kalogirou Cracked eggs, dead birds…
I can’t help the feeling, I could break through the ceiling
blame it on the satellite that beams me home
And it wears me out…
he talks in maths, he buzzes like a fridge
with no alarms and no surprises
You broke another mirror, you’re turning into something you are not
And it wears you out…
I want you to notice, when I’m not around
Pull me out of the aircrash
I’m on a roll this time, I feel my luck could change
Just like your dad, you’ll never change
p.s. There is no need to reason everything
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