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lyrics: J. Morse © 1981 Flashing lights, brightly coloured Burning bright upon the stage tonight Lighting up the troubadours Lashing out with endless rage and might But the light is just a fantasy In the minds of ones so young And the sounds that echo angrily Aren't reflected by the words they sung Images, words, and assumptions Label me within your narrow view Don't pay attention to my meaning It doesn't matter, you don't care. . . do you? And your claims are all just fantasy In the minds of those too old Your tired arguments go quietly I refuse to fit into your mold. . . And the night is just a fantasy In the minds of those too young And are those sounds still lost in apathy? Did they not understand the words they sung? |