Teksty: Fastball. Painting The Corners: The Best Of Fastball. Human Torch.
Turned 'round 6 o'clock and I'm still sleepin'
I don't have to work on Saturday but I do anyway
'Round the corner right on up to the shop
I come creeping but it don't matter anyway
'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave it all behind
The door, the world outside still spins
Waiting there behind the door but I won't let it in
Not today, not tomorrow, not next week
You're just gonna have to pay five bucks to see the geek
'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave
Please, pay your attention high above the center ring
Up in the rafters, 500 feet above the crowd
My hair is soaked in kerosene
My clothes are wet with gasoline
You only get to see this once
The human torch is going down
Going down, going down, going down
I don't have to work on Saturday but I do anyway
'Round the corner right on up to the shop
I come creeping but it don't matter anyway
'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave it all behind
The door, the world outside still spins
Waiting there behind the door but I won't let it in
Not today, not tomorrow, not next week
You're just gonna have to pay five bucks to see the geek
'Cause I know it's just as well
And even so I feel like hell
You can say that it's alright
But I am wrapped up tight
And I can see the forest through the trees
I am on my knees
I don't know if I am supposed to stay
Or I'm supposed to leave
Please, pay your attention high above the center ring
Up in the rafters, 500 feet above the crowd
My hair is soaked in kerosene
My clothes are wet with gasoline
You only get to see this once
The human torch is going down
Going down, going down, going down
Fastball
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