From The Last, Last Call
Here's a long evasive story,
Of failed hopes and glories,
Old chandeliers and scratched up 45's.
And some hymns from my procession,
And a couple drunk confessions.
I soaked in rapture tonight.
No, no lie...No lie...No not I...
Believe me when I say,
That I'm trying hard today, but,
I'm not right! No, I'm not right.
Tell me it's not true.
I would never lie to you!
I'm not right! No, I'm not right.
Maybe you will see that it wasn't meant to be,
But it's not me...
No...
The sins of the faithful...
The luxuries of regret...
And it's the faithless,
Who will know love's tragedies.
An act of purification...
With all the best intentions...
Smite me for my inequities.
No, no lie...No lie...No not I...
Cant believe you say,
That you're better off this way, but,
I'm not right! No, I'm not right.
Tell me what you see when you stand and look at me, oh!
I'm not right! No, I'm not right.
I'm sorry when I say I'm still holding on today, oh!
And will you forgive me,
When I'm found dead on this train,
On the outskirts of Berlin?
Doubled up on angel dust,
And crying on my knees,
For some god to come
And save this lifeless soul within...
Now my ghost will write these words,
As you cry yourself to sleep...
I'm not right...No, I'm not right...
You never want to know what I'm capable of, yeah...
I'm not right! No! I'm not right!
Tell me it's not true, but I would not believe you!
I'm not right! No! I'm not right!
Maybe you will see that it wasn't meant to be!
But it's not me...
Autor(es): Kris Roe
