| I thought you were the rebel guy
|
| Of the mighty town
|
| A cracker side of White Knight
|
| With a rock’n’roll crown
|
| You used to ride your motorbike
|
| And talk of World view
|
| Hold your cigarettes like
|
| Heros are supposed to do
|
| Then I became to realise
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| That your rebel prose
|
| Your speeches ‘bout a world of lies
|
| Were just another pose
|
| I thought you were the rebel light
|
| Of the mighty town
|
| Cool side of the White Knight
|
| I thought you were the rebel light
|
| Of the mighty town
|
| With a rock’n’roll crown
|
| You’re clutching at despair
|
| And your rage is for sale
|
| You’re clutching at despair
|
| And your rage is for sale
|
| But I go away
|
| From this sway
|
| And clean the dirt
|
| You spread on my way
|
| And I can’t stand
|
| Invisible bends
|
| Life isn’t a thought whatever you say
|
| Who watch the slayers?
|
| Who see the slayers?
|
| Who watch the slayers?
|
| Who see the slayers?
|
| So now I’m walking out the door
|
| And let you preach around
|
| Let you kill your friends with bore
|
| Till they all fall on the ground
|
| So now I’m walking out the door
|
| And let you preach around
|
| Kill your friends with bore
|
| Till they all fall on the ground
|
| I thought you were the rebel light
|
| Of the mighty town
|
| Cool side of the White Knight… |