Laughing Clowns
Ghost Beat
It's harsher than I've ever seenThere's totally unintelligible shouts from thereStinging sand and stinging rainI'd better get inside before it gets too wetI hear the sound of marching bandsAnd uniformed feetPretty soon I just can't breatheWith so much screaming my tongue swells more and more each dayOne man's meat is another's poisonOh ghost beatThis operation sure is bigThey surely must expect a fairly major prizeBut they seem so carelessWell I suppose that it's something that has to be doneWith visions of a funeral pyreSee a plane crashingWhat kind of place is thisCan you hear itGhost beatI just can't think with this around'cause all I ever hear is that snare drum soundIt's much harsher than it's ever beenIt's probably what makes me act this wayI hear the call of self-preservationI really don't want to act this way
From Letras Mania