You want to be that beautiful boy in the magazines
But what’s the point if the picture’s worth more than what you’ve seen?
A man with horns, boys at the door
But you’re going for it
No one could have told you otherwise
So sure of success, a relative disguise
You do it everyday
It numbs you
You daydream of the things that you’ll have in the future
You’re ruined
‘Cause you know deep inside it won’t last
You can’t plan your own
Future, future, future
Don’t ask for prewritten scriptures
Or visions of all you’ll discover
You’re not alone, little teacher
Grandmaster, he’s gonna need ya
Journeys to find imperfections
Beauty of unseen futures
What if you’re lost? No angel can find you
How would they explain? (How would they?)
Would they gossip and let it slip under their breath
“I guess he, I guess he found a way”
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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