bow
when it´s called for
run away
when the line is dead
I´ve been trying
to let the ghost out
but, it won´t
little by little
boy or a girl
either or
you become what you are
gold remains gold
then how come
whatever´s real
never comes my way
there´s nothing left to say
at the end of the day
what´s the deal
scared shitless
in a faceless crowd
but I can´t help
noticing you
drowning
in your own blood
(how lame is that)
then frying
in your own fat
(what kind of an end is that)
calling a shovel for a shovel
doesn´t always make sense
some times it even becomes
a hippopotamus
then how come
whatever´s real
never comes my way
there´s nothing left to say
at the end of the day
what´s the deal
two steps forward
three steps beck
that´s where I´m at
tell me, how come
whatever´s real
never comes my way
there´s nothing left to say
at the end of the day
what´s the deal
how come
whatever´s real
never comes my way
there´s nothing left to say
at the end of the day
what´s the deal
baby, tell me why
