Layla
He was just fifteen, he was a new trainee
He lied about it for the opportunity
To defend the border his life was sworn
Though not a generation was native born
Johnee Jingo
Johnee Jingo
He had lost the battle but won the war
When the generals said he couldn't fight no more
He was proud and bitter at what he'd done
So he passed it off to his favorite son
Johnee Jingo
Johnee Jingo
Jingo don't you fight for me
Jingo don't you speak for me
To the man who owns the land
We're all the same
But when his grip begins to slip
Then he'll be
He lied about it for the opportunity
To defend the border his life was sworn
Though not a generation was native born
Johnee Jingo
Johnee Jingo
He had lost the battle but won the war
When the generals said he couldn't fight no more
He was proud and bitter at what he'd done
So he passed it off to his favorite son
Johnee Jingo
Johnee Jingo
Jingo don't you fight for me
Jingo don't you speak for me
To the man who owns the land
We're all the same
But when his grip begins to slip
Then he'll be
Three Of A Perfect Pair
She is susceptible
He is impossible
They have their cross to share
Three of a perfect pair. . .
He has his contradicting views
She has her cyclothymic moods
They make a study in despair
Three of a perfect pair
One, one too many
Schizophrenic tendencies
Keeps it complicated
Keeps it aggravated
And full of this hopelessness
What a perfect mess. . .