Last Train
Rain on the brain, now there's flowers in
your window. She, well she's so strange,
I don't know anything about her. But if it's
all the same to you, here's what I'm gonna
do I'm gonna write a song, gonna sing it to
everyone, and then I'll sing to you 'cos
it was you that wrote it too. This could be
the last train. Search within yopurself for
fellings, evrybody's got them. You left me
on the shelf, and now theres no-on to rely
on. But if it's all the same to you, here's
what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna buy a gun,
gonna shoot everything everyone. And
then I'm coming for you, 'cos it was you
that drove me to. This could be the last
train. Woo-woo. Woo-woo. Woo-woo.
Woo-woo. Rear window, with the room
in her hair and on her jacket there's a picture
in white of Che Guevara, as he sits beneath
the tree, but that's not important. But he
looked a bit like me. If you took all the
little feelings in your heart, and took all
those little feelings all apart. Oh well now
what's the point in doing all of that?