Sunday's Best - Red Herring Lyrics

A pictured life with
framed to keep but still he needs.
Can he talk a good game?
It's all done wrong--he's still the same.

The roundabout vagueness plague;
guitar-driven moods he displays.
Play the chord, hear the ring,
it's all the rage--it's still the same.

Today is the day, marked for life.
Here in which we shine so bright.