Текст песни Blend

Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend. Know what I'm saying

People contemplating their next move
On the chessboard of life
Take a joke, close your eyes, and turn the music up
Stale people, stale uniforms...hands in their pockets
Miniature minds thinking their grand thoughts
Miniature people picking out everyone's faults
Ideas seem to change with the last thought of the night
Questions written on your face
Questions wading in your mind

Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend. Know what I'm saying

People masterbating their way
Thru thier own chessboard of life
Take a joke, close your eyes, and turn the music up
Fake people in uniforms...cocks in their hands
Miniature minds thinking their grand thoughts
Miniature people picking out everyone's faults
Ideas seem to change
With the last thought of the night
Answers written on your face
Answers wading in your mind

Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flamesBackstreet Law - Blend - http://ru.motolyrics.com/backstreet-law/blend-lyrics.html
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend. Know what I'm saying

First finger and my thumb on my face...
Who have I become?
A slave to the bottle?
Faceless man to society?
Some days masked by sobriety

First finger and my thumb on my face...
Who have I become?

Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend. Know what I'm saying

(Guitar Solo)

Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend. Know what I'm saying

First finger and my thumb on my face...
Who have I become?
A slave to the bottle?
Faceless man to society?
Some days masked by sobriety

First finger and my thumb on my face...
Who have I become?