Body Count
by Jack Bruce and Pete Brown
Coming to me in the morning, leaving me at night.
Coming to me in the morning, leaving me alone.
You've got that rainbow feel but the rainbow has a beard.
Running to me a-cryin' when he throws you out.
Running to me a-cryin', on your own again.
You've got that pure feel, such good responses,
But the picture has a mustache.
You're coming to me with that soulful look on your face,
Coming looking like you've never ever done one wrong thing.
You're coming to me with that soulful look on your face.
You're coming looking l
Coming to me in the morning, leaving me at night.
Coming to me in the morning, leaving me alone.
You've got that rainbow feel but the rainbow has a beard.
Running to me a-cryin' when he throws you out.
Running to me a-cryin', on your own again.
You've got that pure feel, such good responses,
But the picture has a mustache.
You're coming to me with that soulful look on your face,
Coming looking like you've never ever done one wrong thing.
You're coming to me with that soulful look on your face.
You're coming looking l
White
you think of white
somewhere outside
somehow connected to your brain
or about to knock on your door
eternity
is a policy
magnetism and mystery
wishful thinking and fantasy
and i hope that you're not
hoping for me
you think of sight
and reason collides
somehow transmitting from space
asking you to line up and take your place
infinity
is a reality
life jackets and sympathy
bullshit daydreams
i know you can't be knowing for me and i hope that you're not
hoping for me