maybe some day we'll meet again
|
when our two roads hit the same dead end
|
and o-oh i'm counting the days
|
cuz you've got something that i've never since seen
|
a willing heart and a part that's clean
|
we're both good at counting days
|
|
with an ounce of intuition and your parents' ammunition
|
you come here hungry wearing naked ambition
|
hysterical to meet you
|
can you get me in?
|
|
i got three years tied to the mast of this town
|
she's a handsome ship but i'm going down
|
and o-oh she ain't coming with me
|
there's a time to fight and a time to get out
|
but you'll fight till we're all knocked out
|
and oh i keep counting teeth
|
|
everyone's an artist with a pristine vision
|
a cellular intelligencer with a fire in her kitchen
|
too many chefs on dope. and the rich don't listen
|
|
i am the rabbit wrapped in panic actor
|
bag in a tree you will outlast the cast and me i gotta get some release!
|
it's up or out and the ladders on fire
|
she greased her frock with a smile that moves the sky
|
|
surviving the insult day to day
|
they give you the insult to make it go away
|
and o-oh what can i say?
|
i got a wine swept smile and a well-timed mile
|
i've been running since i heart they'd sooner see us die
|
than o-oh come and die next to us
|
|
up to her knees in men keep hitting
|
and the white suits fuck like bad television
|
latest simple angel come die next to me
|
|
i am a shifting shape a wire walker
|
coked with the hopes of happy happy ever after
|
i came to trial out of style
|
but i got my eye on a country mile
|
where the people you know are the ones you like
|
|
-----------------
|
Your X-Rays Have Just Come Back From The Lab And We Think We Know What Your Problem Is
|
| Jets To Brazil |
