Ian Fitzgerald walks like tussaud

Select language to translate this lyric

in the back of the museum
where they used to keep the brooms
for fans of random history there's a perfect little room
there's an austrian dictator
and the star of radio
and a dozen other people
nobody seems to know
like president buchanan unpopular as in his day
was facing mary pickford less than seven feet away
oh my heart would bleed like kansas if they'd shaped one out of wax
if only i could reach you i would teach you to relax
you could be my best girl all my secrets i could tell
cause i know that you don't say much but the silence suits you well
i want the rings on your hands to leave corresponding marks
in the valleys of my fingers from holding on too long and hard
all the cool kids kisses carved in stone like monuments
could last half a lifetime for a dozen other gents
but i'm no face in a frieze in the space above a door
i may not make a motion but i deserve a little more
by then he'd thought his thoughts were clouded
and his train had jumped the tracks
but it was smoke in the room rising
as if straight from a stack
he would've turned his gaze to mary
if it wasn't fixed that way
and he looked for something common but with urgency to say
instead he started leaning though he never had before
as the heat was quickly rising radiating from the floor
just as rapidly he realized with his right arm fully stretched
he might finally touch his love a touch that no good man forgets
when he noticed the gap closing faster than he could've planned
he realized she was reaching too with softly folded hands
mary though you might has well have been another world away
i knew that you were thinking of me you just couldn't say
then as if he needed one more thing he'd never seen before
curls of mary's hair began to dive like sparrows to the floor
her gray eyes started sliding toward the bottom of her face
and instead of moving toward him she was settling in place
despite it all he reached for her
still strong standing hard
but even his own sliding eyes could recognize the scope
oh mary i'm afraid the sun is sinking on us both
but you've never looked so lovely
you've never looked so close
he felt his reach grow shorter as he lost his fingertips
and he prayed a flood would come to end the death by a thousand drips
he fixed his gaze on her until his eyes could no more swim
though her face had puddled on the floor he swore she winked at him
oh mary
icarus ain't got nothing on me
icarus ain't got nothing on me
they managed to save elvis nearly half of jfk
and marilyn munroe though it looked like her dying day
a headless hiawatha
babe ruth without his bat
and the past claimed cleopatra but the present spared her cats
oh the back room was a massacre though it went untouched by flames
they could'nt id anybody by their empty frames
there wasn't any crime scene just an overloaded fuze
and a race at least to save materials to be reused
cause from wax we are created
and to wax we shall return
the president and mary and the barrels weren't turned
until new life was breathed into their fleshless metal ribs
he felt what once was mary's hand on the wax that once was his
oh mary
icarus ain't got nothing on me
icarus ain't got nothing nothing on me

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS