Lyrics

There’s a painting on your wall
It’s no work of art at all
Careless colors scattered round
Leaves are falling to the ground
So I journeyed through the past
Time might tell
I might find myself at last
And a clock keeps ticking in the hall
And I just decided I don’t like the color of your walls
Pull the trigger of your gun
It’s like pissing on a nun
What’s that sound inside your head?
Changing colors into red
Like a splendor from the past
Like an actor that’s just been cast
In a play where he doesn’t know the lines
And the music in your head is out of time
The music in your head is out of time
The music in your head is out of time