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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
First, boy, I think you should know
If you try hard then you might get a part as a
Doe-eyed impressionist mime
Bare as the lives of the footballers' wives that
Surround you, their diamonds aloft
A system of pistons arachnid and blistered
A billboard, a murder of crows
While princes fly drones that can see through your bones, and the
Wind stops, the temperature drops
And harpies melt through you like horses to glue
I believe you, but not what you say
To close it around till you're scorched and undrowned, they
Devour you in tottering heels
And who wants the Falklands and who wants the Balkans
I love you, just like a bank
There's so much to talk about that we don't talk about
Boy
Trust in me
I feel
She said it fills me with dread
The people in Parliament don't know the half of it
Please, son, it's only a sport
The fate of a ball don't enthrall me at all.
So relax, son, go through it again
Who have you seen what's with all your means
I fell down, down
And I
Saw a billionaire
With all his innards nailed
To the walls, to the walls, to the waist
Don't fear it now
But don't stop asking
Hey, man, you're probably right
It's not a galaxy made for a guy like me
Badness, the edge of the world
The edge of my memory, some kind of energy
Burned up and frittered away
Pound in the dirt as?
But I'm awful, I kept my head down
I turned a blind eye and I played my cards right
I'm in debt, ma, I've waited too long
Bought all the records I've bought all the records
I'm lonely, I don't know myself
I thought there was something I waited for something
Oh girl
Don't
Don't
Leave...
Don't leave...
Don't leave...
Don't leave...
(To the walls, to the walls, to the waist)
Don't leave...
Don't, don't!
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