The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band
eighteen is over the hill
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Antique white lace,
A plastic face,
A tinfoil place,
An empty space,
YouÂre so hung-up on yourself
And nothing else.
(chorus)
I like too much the rain,
The power of my brain,
The sunshine
And the open road,
Ahead of me.
Laughing because,
ItÂs right to laugh,
Dress up at night,
In the right dress.
You canÂt change me
Into something
That IÂm not.
(repeat chorus)
IÂll hear your line,
Some other time,
When miming
Performance rhyme.
The way you feel,
It is so phoney
And unreal.
(repeat chorus twice)