He's a what?
|
He's a what?
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He's a newspaper man
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And he gets his best ideas
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From a newspaper stand;
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From his boots to his pants
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To his comments and his rants
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He knows that any little article will do!
|
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Though he expresses some confusion
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'Bout his part in the plan,
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And he can't understand
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That he's not in command;
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The decisions underwritten
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By the cash in his hand
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Bought a sweater for
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His weimariner too
|
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Now I'm no mad man,
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But that's insanity
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Feast before famine,
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And more before family
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Goes and shows up with
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More bowls and more
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Cups and the riot for the
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Last hot meal erupts
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Corrupts his hard drive
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Through the leanest months
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Shells out the hard cash
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For the sickest stunts;
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On aftershave, on gasoline
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He flips the page and turns
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The scene
|
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In my mind I'm drowning butterflies
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Broken dreams and alibis;
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That's fine.
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I've seen my palette blown
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To monochrome-
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Hollow heart
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Clicks hollowtone,
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It's time.
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Eye on authority,
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Thumb prints a forgery
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Boy, ain't it crazy what the
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Lights can do
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For counterfeit community;
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Every opportunity
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Wasted as the space
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Between the flash tattoo
|
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And the half-hearted hologram,
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Posed for the party
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Now he gloss full bleed
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On a deaf dumb tree
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Cod liver dollar signs,
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Credit card autograph
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Down for the record
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But not for freedom
|
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Angry young mannequin
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American, apparently
|
Still to the rhythm
|
Better get to the back of me
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Can't stand the vision,
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Better tongue the anatomy
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Gold plated overhead,
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Blank transparency
|
In the days of old,
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You were a nut
|
Now you need three bumps
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Before you cut
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Not that I should care about,
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Nothing I ain't scared of, but
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I guess you had to be there.
|
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In my mind I'm breeding butterflies,
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Broken dreams, and alibis
|
That's fine.
|
I've seen my palette
|
Blown to monochrome
|
Hollow heart
|
Clicks hollowtone
|
In time.
|
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I see you figured in your action pose
|
Foam-injected axl rose,
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Life size
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Should something shake you
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And you drop the news,
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Lord, just keep your dancing shoes
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Off mine
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-----------------
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Dancing Choose
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TV On The Radio |