Rascals (The)
Freakbeat Phantom
Resting himself on his crutches, suspicious stories which are fakeLaughter was growing around in a stranger's soundHolding his stutter in his hands and carving his words to demandsPsychotic byonic he was as he splutters his wordsTouched by the freakbeating phantom, I'm holding onConfusion cuts in the air, if I was granted one wishI'd whisk off the girl with the white jeans for a singles night's blissRevising thoughts of stately homes as the party continuesThe bright lights eluminates the, the freakbeat eluminates the night
From Letras Mania