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| While the king he screams at the likes of us, Her majesty waits at the back of the bus. The stars willingly align... After all, times stays on its own side. Without wings, we're gathering. Preparing for the rites of spring. From the swinging of the axe to the swaying of the hips, It's such a tangled web we weave from the soul to the lips. The time to live is heard in the ticking of the clocks, as you and I make love till the equinox. Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh... Hey-yeah-yeah...hey-yeah-yeah...ohhhhhh... We learn, we learn, we learn... |
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