fuel کے بول

oh my litle thiefyou've been slipping through the wrong seeve on my little yaht all we thought about was shore leave single exhaust truck doomed to vanish in it¹s own mist oh I liked the plan but you had to pick the wrong men you needed four or five and one to park & drive a parking lot bender one in one out of mind and one to kill your time I shot all your darlings my imperfect crime one to confront me with burdons beyond me one to keep me high and dry (with) rain falling out of a clear blue sky one to control me one not to call me one to be what I am not chainsaw cutting a forget me not - (change very scene but never the plot) for my memory non stop shifted all entries (with a) time based tendancy to pick out snobs and call them hippies I said we needed fuel and one way roads are cruel but somehow we¹ld get there I¹ll trade my wine for fuel and dance around the stool mechanical bullshit not a one life hit meanwhile i was - out there filling tanks you were pushing up my daisies strand on fuel flood banks with a blindfold in the hazy