trombones in a parade, dried fruit to shoot our do-nut talk going round and round, we're so vain grow your hair again and things are not the same so i'll repeat some meaningless words like a huge bunch of flowers that blocks your view will that sweet and tender nihilism, sneer? " ...and love and dreams for all." gloves, enameled shoes and star-collector is a department store' mixed up telephone line in mexico, endless romanticism i don't care about the time, i just want to look at the inside of the clock so i'll embrace some worn-out words like a big bunch of flowers that blocks your view recognizing it when it's gone to past " ...and love and dreams for all." it's kinda funny, all we know is that we never know who we're talking to against the winter's gravity, boxing gloves of tricks and wits! so maybe i'll repeat some meaningless words like a big bunck of flowers that blocks your view will that sweet and tender nihilism sneer? "...and love and dreams for all."