There's an ant crawling up your back in the nighttime. There's an ant crawling up your back in the nighttime. But you think that's OK while you're sleeping.
I'm asleep but she's talking to me. She's walking 'round wearing all of my clothes. As she runs out of things to say. And grabs my coat to walk away. .
Year after year,. though every dream of a pony would end in tears,. the cake was lit and as you blew the candles out,. your heart refilled,. and every year,.
Am I awake?. . What time is it?. . When I get through this day. Can someone tell me how. And how much longer now. Am I awake?. . The coffee's cold, did I forget to drink it yet.
Make a hole with a gun perpendicular. To the name of this town in a desktop globe. Exit wound in a foreign nation. Showing the home of the one, this was written for.
The alphabet of nations. The alphabet of nations. The alphabet of nations. . Algeria, Bulgaria, Cambodia, Dominica. Egypt, France, the Gambia. Hungary, Iran, Japan, Kazakhstan.
On this fateful day, in the history of whenever,. An epidemic of missing letters has swept the land.. Whatever the cause, for the sake of future generations,.
The alphabet of nations!. . Algeria, Bulgaria, Cambodia, Dominica, Egypt, France, the Gambia. Hungary, Iran, Japan, Kazakhstan, Libya and Mongolia. Norway, Oman, Pakistan.
Begin again, begin again. Wake up the lazy boyfriends. Begin again, begin again. We can start at the end. Push your hands in your pockets, spaced out and sleepless.
This song is dedicated to all you modern day troubadours out there. And I think I know who you are. . I gotta get a job. I got to get some pay. My son's gotta go to art school.
Once upon a time, they sent a rocket to the moon. With scientific instruments to test conditions there. But just before they closed the door. One scientist expelled a germ.
It's just a full day's drive away. It's just a full day's drive away. It's just a full day's drive away. It's just a full day's drive away. . We can't fly like birds in the air.
I was born in a light house. My mother was the sea. I crawled to school each morning. When it occured to me that. Lifes just a mood ring we're not allowed to see.
You might be thinking that you're free. You might be sailing 'cross the sea. You might be staring at the stars,. But you'll be thinking. About me.. Me.
What's behind the door. Behind the pile of furniture?. . Aaa!. Aaa!. . Reach inside the wall and feel around. I think there's something there. Aaa!. Aaa!.
A shooting star is not a star. Is not a star at all. A shooting star's a meteor. That's heading for a fall. . A shooting star is not a star. Why does it shine so bright?.
I'm sitting on the curb. By the empty parking lot. Of the store where they let me play the organ. I'm waiting for my ride. But I want to wait inside. Of the store where they let me play the organ.
Hello. They Might Be Giants are happy to be on a radio program for the first time in their long-illustrious careers. 1985 has been a very good year for They Might Be Giants. In January, Bill began at a new school. Everyone liked him, And he likes everything. In March, we were all trapped deep inside a subway car racing down tracks going faster and much faster until they never let us out a full ten blocks later. In April, we all sang a duet with Tina Turner. In a way it was nice, and it was our favorite song. But we spent the entire summer resting up, looking for some vital link missing in the big picture. Bill said he had found it, but in fact he had lost it. Well, in September Bill chipped a tooth skyriding far above the Planet Earth. And then came the end of the year when we were on our very last radio show, which we are glad that you have become a part of. Thank you for listening to They Might Be Giants. We do have a Dial-a-Song service at 718-387-6962. Service at 718-387-6962. Thank you..
Underneath a big clock. At the corner of 5th Avenue and 22nd Street. I stood and waited for a girl I knew. At the spot where we agreed to meet. It was four minutes of two.
32 footsteps leading to the room where the paint doesn't want to dry. 32 footsteps running down the road where the dirt reaches the sky. 32 feathers in my brand new Indian headdress.