Solarium malaria lookin' for the stereo.
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Wanted to save being excommunicated from the area. A it's ok.
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In the city she said he cut a cord of wood,
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No bigger than thimble but still plenty good. A it's ok.
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'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies.
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On account of the world economy that's makin' us sick.
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Go get the man who said he's on to me,
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He thinks we're in the kitchen with our sticks.
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But he don't know that Paris is burnin' down,
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You'd never know it in this town.
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The governor's walkin' around like he's got tricks for you.
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Catch as Casius never become the killing machine.
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Run him over ruff shod 'til he bleeds army green out.
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So devout to the saint that lost his seat he never seen,
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Semi-automatic rosary out devout.
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'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies.
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In a world too sad for Solomon we just sit.
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I'll watch your economy,
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I'll tell you when the police have it fixed.
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Paris is burnin' down,
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You'd never know it in this town.
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The governor's walkin' around like he's got tricks for you.
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So take a minute to laugh it over,
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We'll make sure it's all true,
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Just like she said,
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Behind the barn last December eve.
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Baby falls 40 feet caught by a street cleaner coming home from the union hall,
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He saw the fall. A it's ok.
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JP Sousa found a radio, a radio.
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Sousa found a place to go,
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A radio in his head that said.
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It's just a bump on a rash of robberies,
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An old sand lot anomaly that's savin' this day.
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In a world too sad for sodomy
|
We're just sitting in the kitchen with our stray.
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But Paris is burnin' down,
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Governors are walkin' around,
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We'll make sure that they do right by you.
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So you think you might go to Beatrice,
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Even though the letter was never found.
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Maybe it will come tomorrow noon.
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She is askin' her fallen saint to
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Please return her straitlaced fighter
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Who don't know who she is, he don't know who she is.
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Where are you my sweet Desmond Doss,
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Have you softly gone to winter?
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Here I've brought you your two two dollar bills back.
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But I'm not waiting for sweet Eliza.
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She can have her water colors back,
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I found them on last December eve.
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You look strangely quite so familiar,
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The way you talk of suppertime but I don't know who she is,
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Don't know who she is.
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And you, you bring this beloved stranger.
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At the foot of this pile on Gideon's bed,
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She gave me a needlepoint motorbike.
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So go and take this to sweet Eliza,
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It was written and gently given to
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The courier pending arrival soon.
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Could you hold me just one more older
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Then I'll go as your fallen fighter
|
Waiting at the door, can't see you any more?
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Here my dear a sweet Nostrovia,
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In a letter sent to December,
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I will wait for you to just humble me home.
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-----------------
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Rash Of Robberies
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| State Radio |
