Lyric

Oh I have to make me so rad

We used to love a hole

Now trying to fix it so long

When it comes to your granddad

You come and move chairs back

You used to make him so wrong

Here awaits young ones something so bad

Blame it for black bile going down your red cheek

What're the games that scare forward movement of someone fair?

Clever people’s smart dare

Things like that make you so wrong

What're the games that scare forward movement of someone fair?

Awkward people on their knees

Things like that make you so wrong

Beacons are left on your side

All we give and need is a guide

Oh I have to make me so rad

We used to love a hole

Now trying to fix it so long

Here awaits young ones something so bad

Blame it for black bile going down your dead cheek

What're the games that scare forward movement of someones fair?

Clever people’s smart dare

Things like that make you so wrong

What're the games that scare forward movement of someones fair?

Awkward people on their knees

Things like that make you so wrong, so strong

Wait, who sits on that chair?

(A tweed-suit-wearing woman is swaggering and passed by rags-wearing her;

The rich and poor meet together)

What're the games that scare forward movement of someones fair?

Clever people’s smart dare

Things like that make you so wrong

What're the games that scare

Oh baby, please don’t let it faster

They would turn into an orange ray and then lost their detail

What’s gonna bring you down?

What’s gonna face you again?

Don’t let the rest of your days faster