Letra de The Successor After The Professor

Hundred and fifty years old A mind colored in gold He barely believes he's alive Knuckles and blod's getting dry Can't go to sleep at night He has to complete his fight But everything draws towards an\ the end He cannot anylonger pretend But his work and ideas still live There's so much more to give There must be a way this can be solved A sollution both simple and bold As clear as lightning from the sky As obvious as day and night The idea was that teh professor, of course Needed a successor