You Belong Somewhere You Feel Free.

There Goes Your Freedom Of Choice, There Goes The Last Human Voice.

I Think For It To Be Hip To Be Idealistic Is Weird, You Know? I Mean, Even All The Best Rebels To Me, Had Some Sense Of Hope In Them.

There Was No Use Pretending, No Magic Left To Hear, All The Music Gave Me Was A Craving For Lite Beer.

I Ain't Really Sure, But It Seems I Remember The Good Times

I Wouldn't Want To Get Stuck Being An Oldie-goldie Group, But I Don't Mind. I Think All The Trouble You Go Through These Days To Go To One Of These Concerts, I Think I Owe Them A Bit Of What They Came To Hear.