Thoughts

Thoughts, right now
I picked up a magazine
Ooh, here we go, fifteen hundred years
Fifteen hundred years, right here
Burning witches, burning books
Burning babies and their looks

Yes indeed, burning everything
That's sacred in my jeans

Thoughts, right now
She's been everybody else's girl
Thoughts, right now, now
Thoughts, right now, right now
Am I here? Am I here?
Never here

I'm never here
I'm never here
I'm never here

Never a bird
Or a flower in the tree
Or the pain of the respect thereof
Yes indeed

Thoughts, right now
What will become of me?
Become of her?
Become of we, baby?
Yeah