| A small parade has passed
|
| I saw it on my way home
|
| Except for the blank in the middle
|
| For the masters and groups
|
| There’ll be no more watching
|
| They’re resting tonight, all right
|
| A bit too different in sight
|
| Trying to divert your own pains
|
| And the makers of the floats
|
| They monitor the signals
|
| Just before this noon
|
| Only one switch is pressed
|
| And the slumber will belong to those
|
| They’re resting tonight, all right
|
| A bit too different in sight
|
| Trying to divert your own pains
|
| And also when relaxing
|
| Peacefully as kings
|
| I’ve done that there before
|
| What you need is to wonder
|
| And can’t be viewed as a monitor
|
| They’re resting tonight, all right
|
| A bit too different in sight
|
| Trying to divert your own pains
|
| They’re resting tonight, all right
|
| A bit too different in sight
|
| Trying to divert your own pains |