Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Grass Doesn't Get No Greener

The Grass Doesn't Get No Greener

Hmm, mackor.

Air Pollution

I once adored a chemical reaction
her eyes were made from pieces of the moon
but now I fight the angels for a halo
she feels that she has nothing left to prove

we once owned dreams of being something useful
a sword someone would keep at their side
a friction that would spark a revolution
a radio in tune with the sky

well, we tried

now everyone can share what's left
we can share a breath
we can share the air pollution
and we can all control the sun
that's what we'll become
you'll become a resolution

oh i adore a chemical reaction
her features look just like my disguise
we see the world through identical lenses
so i never ask what's going through her mind


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