Head over heels in a sideway spiral
on borrowed wings and with senses so idle
high on the hopes fore the chemical wedding
the promised state in the perfect setting
praying to the beat-craving to be real
Im right (x3),Im wrong
so he said cause so hed read
and your delusions are mine instead
convincing smiles will feed the mind
a curse put on those left behind
your wizzards out on bail-the perfect trips on sale
Im right (x3),Im wrong