Histories, they fascinate me.
Patterns emerge,
But the predictions will never save you.
Tell me six times about your monarchy,
And still I try to cast a vote.
So here sit, staring into your eyes of democracy,
And while I try to see the beauty of such a thing,
I struggle to find faith in that which has never existed.
Equality, you say....
(and my eyes wander around the corners of my face...)
I promise that I am not making faces,
I may just be trying to stifle a smile,
And then maybe you could be the perfect soldier,
And deliver to me the perfect cold shoulder.
Your hand in mine doesn't cover, it folds.
Our fingers lie in perfect rows,
Exact partnership.
I cannot help but wonder when just one of our palms
Will fight for control.
So here I sit, staring into your eyes of democracy
And I am really trying to see the beauty in such a thing
I struggle to believe that you actually exist,
Acceptance, I say...
I promise that I am not making faces,
This really is my stifled smile.
Directed to you, that perfect soldier,
Who offers my head a rest...
On your perfect shoulder.
My history, you have never fascinated me
These patterns emerge,
But this time, predictions have not failed me.
I told you six times about my tyranny,
And still,
You cast your vote
For me.
I raise this glass to my failure to learn,
Throw my ballots to the wind,
(And watch the patterns)
Patterns emerge,
But the predictions will never save you.
Tell me six times about your monarchy,
And still I try to cast a vote.
So here sit, staring into your eyes of democracy,
And while I try to see the beauty of such a thing,
I struggle to find faith in that which has never existed.
Equality, you say....
(and my eyes wander around the corners of my face...)
I promise that I am not making faces,
I may just be trying to stifle a smile,
And then maybe you could be the perfect soldier,
And deliver to me the perfect cold shoulder.
Your hand in mine doesn't cover, it folds.
Our fingers lie in perfect rows,
Exact partnership.
I cannot help but wonder when just one of our palms
Will fight for control.
So here I sit, staring into your eyes of democracy
And I am really trying to see the beauty in such a thing
I struggle to believe that you actually exist,
Acceptance, I say...
I promise that I am not making faces,
This really is my stifled smile.
Directed to you, that perfect soldier,
Who offers my head a rest...
On your perfect shoulder.
My history, you have never fascinated me
These patterns emerge,
But this time, predictions have not failed me.
I told you six times about my tyranny,
And still,
You cast your vote
For me.
I raise this glass to my failure to learn,
Throw my ballots to the wind,
(And watch the patterns)
