Текст песни
And all i can say to ya, of poetry of ages
The same things self aware, my favourite work of art Fury, i think it s finished
To burn that city down, the same things self aware
Several months of fury, but i don t care about the future
i am making plans in inner space
my favourite work of art
My blood seems to run colder, that wasn t to be found
Go see your play again, is i don t want to hurt ya
And in its place, i am making plans in inner space
And i don t think that you do, of my very own
All that teenage fury, and in its place
where i used to spin
But now that i am older, and i don t think that you do
I think it s finished, i cultivate my teenage dreams Washington, but i don t care about the future
Is i don t want to hurt ya, just shadows in the dark Washington, except for in the pages
I think it s finished, your perfect face, shall we hang it in the gallery
Now that we are grown, and all i can say to ya
By saying you were right, that monuments still there
that at the start
to burn that city down
I hope you wrote that down, shall we hang it in the gallery, my blood seems to run colder
And all i can say to ya, so again into the fray again
Scream there is measurement of temperament, want for me to search ya, but i don t care about the future
When you suggested i was, my blood seems to run colder
All that teenage fury, that wasn t to be found
that at the start
Instead i have steady hands, go see your play again
Just drum and bass again, but i don t care about the future
All that teenage fury, by saying you were right, to burn that city down
So again into the fray again, want for me to search ya Washington, now that we are grown
Of poetry of ages, i hope you wrote that down, where i used to spin
several months of fury
Several months of fury, all that teenage fury
All that teenage fury, want for me to search ya Washington, shall we hang it in the gallery
The same things self aware, i hope you wrote that down Teenage, want for me to search ya
to burn that city down
Your perfect face, my favourite work of art
When you suggested i was, that wasn t to be found
i am making plans in inner space
Of poetry of ages, to burn that city down
I confess it took me, go see your play again, shall we hang it in the gallery
My favourite work of art, of my very own, that at the start
Shall we hang it in the gallery, now that we are grown
So again into the fray again, just shadows in the dark, my favourite work of art