No matter where I sit these days I feel like such an ass
But I smile just like a lucky man
Like winter with a mask
Bending over backwards in the name of limber good
I try to stretch imagination
Like I know a good boy should
Running with my eyes closed with scissors and an ax
I try to keep my head on straight
Like winter with a mask
Soldiers marching sideways try to sneak up to the front
Where the battle cries and skirmishes
Will come just after lunch
The sergeant and his nemesis, they share an icy flask
Then they polish off their rifles
Like winter with a mask
Chorus:
It's a textbook case of somethingSun beats down on the longest day
Figure this and armchair that
I've got theories full of holes
Out the ass
The longest day in history
The 21st of June
Sun beats down on everything from ashtrays to the moon
The shortest day in history don't even know my name
And right now it seems so far away
And it knows no shame
Chorus