The Church - Anyway lyrics

Empires crumble in the distance Violet crumble [Brian: it's a kind of chocolate bar] in my bowl Conspiracy Theory, Timothy Leary None of this is good for my soul Salamander extravaganza What if I sing like Mario Lanza ? Anyway in my own way I don't make sense any more It's so hard to fake One lucky break Cocaine and cake Young Master Morris had a closet in the forest But where were the bears when he let down his hair Pieces of ice dragging over the windscreen Look out Wonderland we're bursting through the black screen Anyway in my own way I don't make sense any more It's so hard to fake One lucky break Cocaine and cake (....inaudible mutterings...) Millions of consumers are lost in the rumours Overhead the weather (.....) along their leathers Fighting real fires with the rabbis and the friars The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker (...more inaudible mutterings...) You know that all of them are users None of them are takers Making Sunday music with their tom-toms and their shakers Anyway in my own way I don't make sense any more It's so hard to fake One lucky break Champagne and cake (..........) Anyway in my own way I don't make sense any more