END OF WORDS:

He wants to share with her
          and implore her to embrace a life of silence
His ways above the hip priests and their fashion brigade
He wants to take her down and show her around

But, she's talking all the time
          without saying anything at all

It's all,
          "Talk, talk, talk.
                               Yack, yack, yack.
                     Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.'

You see,
          There's those who think that they know.
                     (And they don't)
          You hold out your hand in the name of hope,
          But you're lucky if you get anything at all
                     except maybe a fist in the face
                     or a kick on the way out
                               BYE, BYE.

She's talking all the time
          without saying anything at all

It's all,
          "Talk, talk, talk talk.
                               Yack, yack, yack.
                     Yack, yack yack, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah, blah.'

You'll be sitting there, trying to sort out some thought that you've had
And there's always someone sitting there saying shit like,
          'Why deny what everybody else knows is right?'

Are these the words of the wise?
That shit leads down to the mire.
And besides,
          who is to say what is wrong
          and what is right?

It's all the words that you know.
I mean, how low will you go?

He wants to share with her
          and implore her to invade his life of silence
But, first he has to get her to shut up once in a while.

It's easier said than done,
          easier said than won.

August 2000, Michael Anderson