Letras
For the pigeon and the boy
The end of the cold war
All the principles
They were apparent
The bucket beside the door
Sure look carries more
Than the sum of all
Our parts together
It's extraneous
So where did you say to us
I don't care?
There's dust on my particular
That you can be certain
It's times like these when I'm alone
I miss the iron curtain
Oh, sixty-five
Oh, sixty-five
Now the trouble with hanging out
Is the frequency of doubt
As it ends in
The new equation
In the circus of the stars
There's a likelihood that art
Is a cheaper
Form of neurosis
It's extraneous
So where did you say to us
I don't care?
There's dust on my particular
That you can be certain
It's times like these when I'm alone
I miss the iron curtain
The good things they proceed to ride
The uselessness of smoking pot
When you think of things you haven't got to say
Oh, sixty-five
Oh, sixty-five
Oh, sixty-five
Oh, sixty-five