Unless we know
The color of the snow
We are not the men
We thought we'd known

I've been drinking
Right through the night
I've been listening
To old Newman's frights

He is a singer
With a problem with ambition
He just kept on wishing
On the fatality of finishing

But how he never does
What he wants to do
Has everything to do
With 2011's truth

Maybe were bent
Maybe we are right crooked
But tonight I feel
Like I've just been stood up

An American dream
Used to have bells and whistles
But lately I've been seeing
Harmony with burnt thistles

People walk with a limp in their step
Other's walk with a **** in their gut
They are the soldier's that won't be called upon
While the rest are left to bicker towards the sun

I'm left sitting here
Lifting pictures of a love I never knew
Someday I hope to find another
One that I won't "smother"

Wash that dirt off your face
You always looked better that way
For hazard is just a harsh and quick blizzard

Who the ****
Do you think you are?,
Some kind of
Ancient wizard?