6=8...The Remainder Of A Formula Self
Say, what be the name of the troubles you run from?
Okay with you if I tag along?
Chatter-boxing
Sing-along
I've got plenty of songs in my suitcase of stories
I'll bring them along
Chatterbox you to death
Sing them all day long
I'm not one for leaving
I'm not fond of coming back
But I'm one for believing
In relieving yourself from the life that you're trapped
Six if you're lucky and eight if you're not
Well it's six if you're lucky and eight if you're not
You'd better run for your life kid
The whole worlds gone to pot (s) pans and pieces
Lot's of little pieces, or have you forgot?