מילים לשיר A Classic Arts Showcase – And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

White glow of the TV set
VoiceThen fall diatonically.
Lights dancing on the screen
Or should I go to sleep?
Should I answer a friend's distress call
What's it to me?
Would I, like the voices rise and fall, Have never passed my mind.
Here I am comfortable
All those hours of wasted time In arm's reach of the black remote.
Here I am comfortable
Surrounded by stings and bows.
Let everyone else go.
Nights on Kirkwood so serene I could write or I could read
Far from the sirens and the screams
Go next door and smoke some weed
About who the hell's running this mess
As long as I don't have to think
Or what shit they're writing up the Stone or NME
Go out and make last call
Or sit here and do nothing at all
What's it to me? Have never passed my mind.
All those hours of wasted time Here I am comfortable
Here I am comfortable
In arm's reach of the black remote.
All those clowns, what can they know?
Let everyone else go.