Aimee Mann. The Fall Of The World's Own Optimist. Zeneszám

There's no charity in you
and that surprises me
I guess I thought you were a golden idol
cause I called you majesty
on the balustrade
you watched me hunt for tips I was obliged to pick up
from the passing trade

Hey, kids--look at this
it's the fall of the world's own optimist
I could get back up if you insist
but you'll have to ask politely
cause the eggshells I've been treading
couldn't spare me a beheading
and I'll know I had it coming
from a Caesar who was only slumming
He