Из альбома: Worse for the Wear

There was honor among the thieves, the only truth I could believe
But, when the lies applied to me and mine it's better left unsaid
We could write the hit parade outside The Masquerade
The headache comes in tidal waves, the spoils of the spoiled
The lines of history became the scenery
It's strictly an accessory, an image to uphold
But, it's all in fun and sin until someone calls it in
The cycle comes around again
But, I'm older now, and don't you know, I've figured out the antidote
It overwhelms, engulfed in smoke
It's all we can to cope
Goddamn these idle hands as hindsight can
Our hopes and plans are unfulfilled
It's overwhelming
There's a proper place and time though the bags under your eyes,
they don't lie

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