Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith
Wonder of wonders our eyes behold
This scaffold of stars but look under for truth be told
We're leaving a scar on everything we've found
And we're going into town for one last round one last round
If all that glitters is not gold
Should our rainbow's end be just the winter cruel and cold
Of our discontent my friends we're trouble bound
Yet we're going into town for one last round one last round one last round
And it's the children who have yet to come who'll have to pay our tab
What kind of world will we have left for them the odds now will be stacked
We've all the wisdom our minds can hold
But no common sense all the live long day the joke
Was at our own expense we've drained our bottles down
And we're going into town for one last round one last round one last round
Yes we're going into town for one last round one last round one last round