On our website, we have the complete lyrics of the song Blend that you were looking for.
Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend
Know what I'm saying
People contemplating their next move
On the chessboard of life
Take a joke, close your eyes, and turn the music up
Stale people, stale uniforms
Hands in their pockets
Miniature minds sticking their grand thoughts
Miniature people picking out everyone's faults
Ideas seem to change with the last thought of the night
Questions written on your face
Questions wading in your mind
Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend
Know what I'm saying
People mess to be their way
Thru their own chessboard of life
Take a joke, close your eyes, and turn the music up
Fake people in uniforms
Cacks in their hands
Miniature minds sticking their grand thoughts
Miniature people picking out everyone's faults
Ideas seem to change with the last thought of the night
Answers written on your face
Answers wading in your mind
Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend
Know what I'm saying
First finger and my thumb on my face
Who have I become?
A slave to the bottle?
Faceless man to society?
Some days masked by sobriety
First finger and my thumb on my face
Who have I become?
Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend
Know what I'm saying
Girls in dresses surround the man in fame
Mother stands back, watch her son go down in flames
Bubbles headed for the brain, lines destined to change
Best thing to do is blend
Know what I'm saying
First finger and my thumb on my face
Who have I become?
A slave to the bottle?
Faceless man to society?
Some days masked by sobriety
First finger and my thumb on my face
Who have I become?
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