You got a brain just like a steam shovel. And I'm tar upon the road. You've got a body like a shotgun. That I'm trying to unload. . If you are yin and yang then baby.
Somebody went and killed some people. And they know who. The evidence fits around the facts. Like a favourite shoe. But nobody knows where the corpses are.
All you have to do is smile. And the words just melt away. And there is nowhere worth going. And I have nothing to say. . When you smile. . Please take off your rings, your watch.
It's been raining for a million years. And the weather just won't turn. Try to build a fire round your place. And the damned logs refuse to burn. The braindead have been sitting on their sunbeds.
Nice girls are writing in journals. Things they wish they'd done. And all their bad sisters are walking high wires. Counting the days in a month. The awful truth doesn't bear thinking.
Those resourceful romeos have all revealed. You're the juliet who couldn't be genteel. All the parents looked askance with much displeasure. As you dared to dance off with their little treasures.
I started. Playing guitar by the town memorial. All my songs were singing editorials. And when I'd done, the sermon on the mount. I counted my change and put it in my bank account.
I'd love to get inside your head and let's be blunt. There are other words that rhyme as well. But that's just the way I am. Understand that I am underneath your spell.
To whom it may concern. Whatever your address. I didn't think I'd have the nerve. To write this I confess. To get it off my chest. But now that I have your attention.
One, two, three. . You might remember this conversation when you get older. You may recall the warning signs by the road. But if you lose all recollection or misplace your sense of direction.
The time on the clock on the wall in the bedroom. Tells him it's time to leave. Last glass of wine drowns the changes. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve.
I was holding up a cigarette. And trying to find my mouth. Trying hard to look so cool. Like any other ticket tout. . People sipping on each other's blood.
Well, I was arrested for disturbing the peace. But hey, I was disturbing the war. I was holding a small white handkerchief. Singing, "Please, don't fight, no more".
I sing of the triumph of trash. The rise to success of hard cash. The birth of annihilation. The end of my patience. I sing of the triumph of trash. .
There's entertainment news on the hotel tv. They run it for 24 hours. Where stars discuss celebrity. And celebrities talk about stars. And who's having who on so and so's set.
I've lived my life backwards. Or heaven knows I've tried. Hope I find my perfection before I die. Maybe once we were fantastic. Maybe once we were divine.
The secret angel fell from grace. Condemned to wear a human face. Evicted from her paradise. Excommunicated twice. Settled for second best. And so she found me.
The east coast is a woman. The mid-west is a man. And the west coast is the baby. They will never understand. And the south is where it. Wants to be. And america is hard to see.
Midweek and we reached scarlet town. I was almost dying of thirst. We parked the car in some old schoolyard. The windscreen caked in dirt. There was no water in the engine left.
I put my forehead to the door. And I heard the famous sound of infidelity. Looks like I loved and lost once more,. Oh, but all's fair in love and war supposedly.