common fools

There is a little man dressed in black
Looks sophisticated
But the soul he lack
Walking down the lane,
of common fools

there is a little woman heels so high
that her ego seems to touch the sky
empowered by the gods of marketplace
strutting up the lane,
of common fools

the air is so dry
the ground so hot
that he thinks if he should stay or not
his mind only can rest so much
there are hot stuff
that he has to touch

thinking if the world’s insane

the air is so thick
the ground so loose
that she thinks if she can find the truce
there are right stuff
that she has to choose

thinking if the world’s insane

no matter how thick or dry
no matter if you can touch the sky
your mind drives you down the lane
of common fools

when she is in black
when he is so high
when the truce is up
in the sky
you walk the lane
of common fools

thinking if the world’s insane