My conception doesn't make
Any reason come
Any clearer
My reason
Is like a secret code
I'm a secret code
And I'm standing in the middle
Of the Nuremberg
Someone said I was a nasty chap
But it's not true,
I was following orders
Sent from somewhere
I cannot discover
I'm not following the yellow brick road
Because I have my priorities, don't you know.

If I ask for solace
I'm bound to receive
Some kind of tension.