The Conspiracists

Using up your nine lives for the last time

You’ve always landed on your feet

I know your secrets those little white lies

They’ve always been too hard to keep

So take your best shot

Fire at will

Take you best shot

Shoot to kill

No second chances this time around

You always hate it when you lose

You’re not so innocent behind your disguise

I could always see right through

© Leo Dante/Chris Saunders

I don’t believe in superstition
Got a black cat for a charm
There’s no needle in my arm to get me high

And I know I’m not a saviour
Doesn’t change the way I feel
You couldn’t find a clearer conscience  built from lies

But it’s all talk, it’s all talk, it’s all talk
Jupiter and Mars would seem to be too far
But footprints on the moon and I’d fool  you
Footprints on the moon

I’m moving through this space and time
It’s in my pocket; I’ll be fine
I’ll make my move past your line of sight
I know what’s wrong and I’ll make it right

Like treading water in the desert
Or moving mountains with your hand
It all seems possible you’ve shifted sands and time
Now I see, you’ve seen it clearly
It will be a better life
Moving pictures through the air like satellites

© 2012 Leo Dante/Chris Saunders