They robbed an answer from the pockets
Of the good old days
It was simple up to them
Now i hold the fire in a worried way
I guard the fire from the wind
I like to tell you that you're pretty,
It warms your face
And i am a winner every time
Don't break my heart
With your common sense,
Don't throw my heart
Against the wind
I wasn't worried about it,
But i watch it closer now
I wasn't worried about it at all
I wait for the moment
And i wait for the moment's cue,
And i do the best that i can.
With my bellows out,
And acomic grace
I rob the pockets of our good, old days.
I wasn't worried about it,
But i watch it closer now
I wasn't worried about it at all