In the eyes In the eyes In the eyes In the eyes of a song There's a liar There's a liar There's a liar That's fooling you some What you're asking For is honesty I'm not sure What that means to me But I know The crooked oars Are steering me astray Or are they Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays A requiem for the one who Will bear the incredible weight Of the folks getting high On everything he will say Oh what you ask of him is suicide Hallellucinating sanctifying And he knows the words he'll speak Will someday do harm Or will they Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays In the eyes In the eyes In the eyes In the eyes of a psalm There's a liar with a lyre on a wire That's fooling you some What you're looking for is certainty But what you're getting is a comedy You know the signs are clear You're certain that they're there But are they Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays Other than for pity It's not exactly A party on Sundays