Looker کے بول

We walked next to a street full of speeding cars We walked like they had stolen ours The pace-car made for what was a hurried hour You picked at love-me-not flowers And i hope the worst ones come true I hope i don't think the way that their screen taught me to I know the low sound of a steady voice 'if you love something you'd better profit' And you wear a guard like your guard against a lie The lie that told you to speak quiet As something to look at on a screen I hope you don't look at all pretty to me Painted a word on the side of your shirt You can't be all they're defining And i remain lost in my father's exhaust And you can't just be a name to find And in time, find us stuck To all those terms made up Like a picture to hang on the wall Adolescent bedroom wall On the wall