Lyrics

Eight flights of stairs Lead me to explanation Still as the air of the breath I exhaled yesterday Well, while I wasn't looking A simpleton in a pair of shoes got in my head With a rifle in pieces Images can always be conjured up And back down again When your life is spent watching the news as it happens Determined and impassioned To keep me in the basement And yet in my head lies a rifle in pieces In the middle of the middle In the centre of the centre We will see That the riddle of all riddles Is that it is right before us What kind of Dallas morning was it? Oh timeless, dateless morn'