| In my evil, little graveyard
|
| There was writing on the wall
|
| We were concocting 'round the cauldron
|
| A dream that was to come
|
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun
|
| He fretted and he fronted
|
| With an accidental charm
|
| 'Til he had forgotten all the words
|
| To his own monologue
|
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun
|
| When I heard the angel call
|
| She put a needle in my bone
|
| She dabbled in my marrow
|
| I was convinced she was the balm
|
| I knew she warded off evil
|
| That would inevitably come
|
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun
|
| In the flash of a fall
|
| It gave rise a lonely charge
|
| That turned into a spark
|
| That in turn gave rise to thought
|
| Thought turned into scrawl
|
| Scribbling into its own form
|
| Form became a law
|
| That would crumble into dust
|
| For fun, for fun
|
| For fun, for fun
|
| The fun, the fun of it all |