Testo di White, Discussion

I talk of freedom You talk of the flag I talk of revolution You'd much rather brag And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse Continue to dampen the day The coin flips again, and again, and again, and again As our sanity walks away All this discussion Though politically correct Is dead beyond destruction Though it leaves me quite erect And as the final sunset rolls behind the earth And the clock is finally dead I'll look at you, you'll look at me And we'll cry a lot But this will be what we said This will be what we said: "look where all this talking got us, baby."