كلمات Good Times

I may be dressed as a doctor dear, But I'm not, I'm just acting up Got high hopes, a passing thought I may act like a bombardier But don't be fooled, cause my aim is off No need for alarm, I'll catch you next time I'd like to raise the Titanic here Take a walk, through it's molding streets And feel right at home, 'cause the dead don't talk It'd be so nice, if you weren't here Empty air, where you used to stand Like an empty plate, that gets bussed away