Must we endure this from your line in the sand?
Needless to say, I'd rather not
Tiptoe until you're out of earshot, late
Transformating your lack of taste
But you won't understand me this time
Not much there behind your eyes
What's that I hear? It's coming up the drive
You are not welcome here this time
So reluctant to leave us where we lie
This madness we can't keep inside
But you won't understand me this time
Not much thеre behind your eyеs
