الكلمات الأصلية
ENالترجمة غير متاحة بعد. نعرض الكلمات الأصلية.
Everyone's standing in line
Under the smell it's making me sick
And physical size makes you right
And the wall are like paper and ice
Chorus: Speak to me revolution boy
Come out to me daughter of joy
I am the collector of things
And all of the pain it brings
Now tell me the lessons we've botched
And lead me to the oxygen tent
And who will be the speaker of the day
And can I exchange my surprise
Chorus
