Testo di 65

Before the bitching and the bore The end of the cold war The principles they were apparent The bucket beside the door The shoulder carries more Than the sum of all our parts together It's extraneous, aware Did you say to us, I don't care There's dust on my particulars Of that you can be certain It's times like these when I'm alone I miss the iron curtain Oh 65 Oh 65 Now the trouble with hanging out Is the frequency of doubt As it enters in the new equation In the circus of the stars There's the likelihood that ours Is just a cheaper form of neurosis It's extraneous, aware Did you say to us, I don't care There's dust on my particulars Of that you can be certain It's times like these when I'm alone I miss the iron curtain The good things they proceed to rot The uselessness of smoking pot When you think of things You haven't got to say Oh 65 Oh 65 Oh 65 Oh 65