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The more I learn the less I know
Could you make mine straight absolute?
The more I fail the less I try
Ask not of me the reason why
Oh, my sentimental fool
Have I got a tale for you
The woman I love is not content
The life I made, it ain't what I meant
The space I'm in is filled with love
The state I'm in is pitiful
Oh, my sentimental fool
Have I got a tale for you
But, when she calls my name
We're almost happy, she's almost like you
Yes, when she calls my name
we're almost there
Man, she's almost like you
The longer I live the less I believe
And all I lost is all I need
The life I made is filled with regret
And I can't tell the half of it.
The woman I love has lost her faith
And I just watch as she fades away
The space I'm in is filled with love
The shape I'm in ain't beautiful.
Oh, my sentimental fool
Have I got a tale for you
Oh, my sentimental fool
I'm draining the glass for you
Do you see my girl?
She's almost like you
Lyrics unavailable
Well, she's a girl in a million
And I'm a millionaire
She wants to mother my children
I think I want to marry her
We haven't got a lot of money
Got a full head of hair
But she's a girl in a million
And I'm a millionaire
Her dad's a big shot politician
Her mother, she is a judge
And I'm a no good for nothing
And I'm a millionaire
We haven’t got a lot of money
Since daddy took the trust fund away
But she's a girl in a million
And I'm a millionaire
She's a go getter
I had to go and get her
She ought to know better
Could do better
But I'm the one that she loves
Hey, hey, hey
My fortune cookies say
She's a girl in a million
And I'm a millionaire
Mama, I think I just might have met my match
I'm lying here in the dirt - a bunch of artifacts
Ghost stations coming alive as my pulse weakens
And I am not afraid to die
Born 1961, just like you
155,000 meters - neither straight or true
Concrete to the left of me
Flowers to my right
These were the best of times
It was my austere demeanour
Defined the age
Next to me, the green world greener
And the the grey more grey
The Old Man came, said
Destroy this Symbolism
Welcome to my Funeral
West Berlin
You will have guessed my name by now
My chagrin
These were the best of times
Oh Hansa, my lover
Where will your gaze fall now?
Combat Groups of the Working Classes
Wherefore will you crowd?
Western hedonists mourn my passing daily
These were the best of times
Inanimate I know,
I am and I will remain
Cinderblock souvenirs, sold with candy cane
Infiltrating the cabinets of the Western Union
With a promise of better times
