It started off like a regular tuesday
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the newspaper had nothing much to say
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hardly noticed anything peculiar in him
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cigarette, cold coffee, first of all
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six o clock, the american prodigal son
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comin home to the same complete disaster again
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well he seemed like the quiet type
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nothing out of place
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you know he looked kind of familiar
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the man with the blurry face
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clean cut to green suburban lawns
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you win and you see that something's wrong
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but the home ain't broken, just the occupants
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break down on the main production line
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a small oversight in the machine design
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another victim of built in obselence
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well he seemed like the quiet type
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nothing out of place
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you know i think i remember him,
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the man with the blurry face
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the man with the blurry face
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he's got a future in television
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in the land of infotainment,
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everyone can be a star
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running late for a very early grave
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we all sleep in the bed our parents made
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the human element seems to be at fault again
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five bodies in the local shopping mall
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twenty bullets in the master bedroom wall
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i don't think those stains are coming out, my friend
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well he seemed like the quiet type
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nothing out of place
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you know i think i remember him,
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the man with the blurry face
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the man with the blurry face
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coming soon to your surveillance system
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in the land of the prisoner and the home of the slave
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the man with the blurry face
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all he wanted was fifteen minutes
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in the land of the loaded gun and the home of the grave
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The Man With the Blurry Face
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| Firewater |
