It's my profession he says
And my confession these days
It seems to be fading away
All the while stating I'm grey
But I hear his heart crying
Oh sad tale of art is dying
Paul's letter now lies burning
The cry of the wise is turning
To the mumbling shame of fools
To the mumbling shame of fools
To the mumbling shame of fools
To the mumbling shame of fools
Fools
Fools
Fools
Fools
It's my profession he says
And my confession these days