Strange Days

Here come a dealer with a bag full
He's pushing from the corner of his eyes
But you can tell by the shine on his shoes
He's working for the FBI

Well, there's a cop on every corner, yeah
He's got an axe to grind
Waitin' for some guitar-playing, grass-smoking long-hair
He got promotion on his mind

Well, strange days, yeah
Yeah, strange ways, yeah
I'd like to know, what I'm supposed to do
Or is Uncle Sam watching you, too?

Lord, I gotta know
Strange ways, yeah, strange days

Strange ways
'Cause we're living in strange days
Strange ways
Strange ways
You've got strange ways, ooh-ooh, yeah
Strange ways, yeah
You've got strange ways

Living in strange days
Surrounded by strange ways
Yeah-yeah-yeah
Strange ways
Stop it, strange ways
Stop it, strange ways

We live in strange...



Credits
Writer(s): Peter Frampton, Steve Marriott, Jerry Shirley, Gregory Ridley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link