Are we institutionalized
|
By the demands of today?
|
In our regalia are we ok?
|
|
Because the flash of a blade
|
Is one less getting paid
|
There in the line
|
And he ice and gold
|
It¡¯s just a double code
|
It¡¯s a paradigm
|
For every little thing
|
That fashion gives you
|
|
So the puritan
|
On a Monday morning
|
Said happy sad melody
|
I¡¯m waltzing
|
On an amazing pulse
|
In a pornographic sea
|
Where the absent blade
|
Is one less in the parade
|
To throw overboard
|
And the ice and gold
|
It¡¯s just a double code
|
It¡¯s a metaphor
|
For every little thing
|
That fashion gives you
|
|
I¡¯m falling into something that
|
?lays upon the metronome
|
In your heart
|
It¡¯s smoke and it¡¯s mirrors
|
Until the auto cue starts
|
Then the dry ice comes
|
And we start sucking our thumbs on the TV
|
And the joy of ?eople
|
Spirited away so merrily
|
It¡¯s part of every little thing that fashion gives you
|
|
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|
The Puritan
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| Blur |
