This stupid production is making me think
|
That history's drawn in invisible ink
|
Too many graves and not enough houses
|
Not enough men and too many mouses
|
We're wearing new rags and we fight over crude
|
Not enough kind and too many rude
|
Flashbulbs popping at the Wicked Parade
|
Don't wake us up till we're all got it made
|
|
Smile for the camera and raise your glass
|
Pull up your socks till they cover your ass
|
Say, "Goodbye"...
|
No more mama's apple pie
|
Damn the torpedoes and take a bow
|
It'll always be now
|
All the children say, "Wow"
|
Say, "Goodbye"...
|
No more mama's apple pie
|
|
Covers are blown at the masquerade
|
When the rain starts falling on the Wicked Parade
|
Tell another lie hope you don't get caught
|
But you better not cry when your soul's been bought
|
Lifeboats floating out on the flood
|
Blood's thicker water, love's thicker than blood
|
Another bullet leaves another mother bereft
|
And the sergeant says, "To the left!"
|
|
Smile for the camera and raise your glass
|
Pull up your socks till they cover your ass
|
Say, "Goodbye"...
|
No more mama's apple pie
|
Damn the torpedoes and take a bow
|
It'll always be now
|
All the children say, "Wow"
|
Say, "Goodbye"...
|
No more mama's apple pie
|
|
To the left!..
|
|
-----------------
|
Wow
|
| Spin Doctors |
