East 3rd St. - Quicksand

I was so sincere.

I see more clearly now.

I, trust new friends just like,

I can throw them.

Fading traces of a, future leader.

A summer squatting,

I know I won抰 see them round next year.

And this is all over my head.

And this is all over my head.

Rain, it抯 rain again, rain,

down on my parade.

I抦 wrong, you抮e right.

It抯 not what you would do.

Rain.

Walk one mile in these shoes.

In these careless days,

you know who your friends are.

A saving grace.

A time to remember,

what you抳e taken,

and who you took from.

There抯 no, mistaking,

what you give is what you get.

And this is all over my head.

And this is all over my head.

Rain, it抯 rain again, rain,

down on my parade.

I抦 wrong, you抮e right.

It抯 not what you would do.

Rain.

Walk one mile in these shoes.

Change of Red Guard, every summer.

They are handing, the park over.

An ideal, idealistic.

It’s not real,

it’s just a trick.

Rain.

Play a judge.

All you want to.

It makes no difference to me.

It’s raining again.

It’s raining again.

It’s raining again.