It took off into space from this terrible place
Won't be ?round for a year
The instructions, they said, had been numbered instead:
?WEATHER: PERFECTLY CLEAR?
?Plot: uninspired?
Bored, I got tired
I won't pretend that I stayed 'till the end
Now they won't return my call
They won't speak to me at all now
They won't return my call
It was Sunday again at a quarter to ten
He?d stepped out for a beer
While walking home in the rain all alone
Weather perfectly clear
Writer(s): Kurt Bloch
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com