LYRIC

Running in place
For the thrill of the chase
Oh, not knowing, not knowing
I was in, I was in paste

I Reed Frost from outer-space
I can't tell
I can't tell
But feel of faith

Out of my head
And out of my brain
Eggs flapper wheat spice
Raisins made of sugar and yeast

I Reed Frost from outer-space
I can't tell
I can't tell
But feel of faith

Running in place
For the thrill of the chase
Oh not knowing, not knowing
I was in, I was in paste

I Reed Frost from outer-space
I can't tell
I can't tell
But feel of faith

Out of my bed
And out of my bread
Eggs flapper wheat spice
Raisins made of sugar and yeast

I Reed Frost from outer-space
I can't tell
I can't tell
But feel of faith

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