Lyrics
Here I sit where pigeons form
indecision in thoughts well-worn
Flock you! 'round at my expense
Oh, figurines of pestilence
Living, dying,
Well, there's a reason
For summer, for winter...
And every season at hand
And there's a lot I'd like to say
Yes, quite a lot, but not today
I sing useless to a tune
Found the sun, but lost the moon
Living, dying
Well, there's a reason
For laughing, Crying...
And everything in betweeen
Do you know what I mean?
We've got to keep it all clean...
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