manic street preachers
running out of fantasy
My eco-system is based on hatred My Dna remains untested I hate the tyranny of the Sun It always rises, always comes down I'm running out of fantasy I don't expect your sympathy I'm old, I'm strange I'm confidential Has my fantasy run out of delusion? Has my fantasy reached its logical conclusion? I'm running out of fantasy The dying fall of my sentences The magic of lost consequences The seduction of a fading power In a hotel room in the middle of nowhere I'm running out of fantasy I don't expect your sympathy I'm old, I'm strange I'm confidential Has my fantasy run out of delusion? Has my fantasy reached its logical conclusion? I'm running out of fantasy I'm revealing myself in layers Exposing a core to the inner eye Drawn deep into some distant episodes I don't know whether to laugh or cry Running out of fantasy The obsession with change has bled my dry My fantasy forever locked inside The obsession with change has bled my dry The obsession with change has bled my dry My fantasy forever locked inside The obsession with change has bled my dry