| Sun comes up on the old neighbourhood
|
| Spray painted bricks and dead firewood
|
| Well, I don’t know where I’m gonna be next
|
| I don’t care where I’m gonna be
|
| Next time, if you think of it
|
| You might remember me as
|
| The one who let you down
|
| But never made another sound of fear
|
| Some people like to call me Chuck
|
| It’s «Charles» and you are shit outta luck
|
| If you think you know what happens next
|
| You think you know what happens
|
| Next time, if you think of it
|
| You might remember me as
|
| The one who let you down
|
| But never made another sound of fear
|
| Sun goes down on the old neighborhood
|
| Dark damp has stopped where I once stood
|
| I don’t know where the bus stops next
|
| And I don’t care where the bus stops
|
| Next time, if you think of it
|
| You might remember me as
|
| The one who let you down
|
| But never made another sound of fear
|
| The sound of fear
|
| I can hear
|
| The sound of fear |