it's a strange thing
to be so far away from yourself
that you can't feel yourself spinning down
you're winding down
there are some days
where you can't see the eye for the skull behind it
make up your mind
it's a fine line just in time
all the sweet things
are gone from your mouth
all your story-book birds
have flown south
you get cold and mean
you get old and lean
you get all tied up in making the scene
a little touch up makes you look obscene
chorus
i want to sparkle i want to shine
i want to be everything divine
but i spend my time falling into line
behind these fairweather friends of mine
