| You walk into a room
|
| And you are instantly feeling uncomfortable
|
| But it was cold outside
|
| Figures sodden and smug and impenetrable
|
| They have their backs to you
|
| And their shoulders are forming a mountain range
|
| They don’t invite you in
|
| Though you are of their ilk and by no means strange
|
| When you finally find your family
|
| Will you be turning your back on your former self?
|
| It’s a story of hypocrisy
|
| Once was poor, is now a man of wealth
|
| Will he be turning his back on his former self?
|
| Will he be turning his back?
|
| Turning his back again?
|
| Turning your back again?
|
| Turning your back again on your former self
|
| How do I know when a stranger’s not a god in disguise
|
| Who will fallow your fields and make you bleed from your eyes
|
| Rain fires from the skies
|
| And for God sakes
|
| Open your door
|
| They have their backs to you
|
| They don’t invite you in
|
| Turning your back on your former self
|
| Will you be turning your back?
|
| Turning your back again
|
| Turning your back on your former self
|
| You walk into a room
|
| And you are instantly feeling uncomfortable
|
| But it was cold outside
|
| Figures sodden and smug and impenetrable
|
| How do I know when a stranger’s not a god in disguise
|
| Who fallow your fields and make you bleed from y our eyes
|
| Rain fires from the skies
|
| And for god sakes
|
| Open your door |