Name me someone who's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a preyer for them.
One man to a see-saw, do you see my flaw?
The light is my plight, the locked door, behind me, she said she'll stay. Jewls and binoculars, that's what he had to say.
I'm just like you, but don't listen to me speak for you.
This isn't poetry, don't you see? The difference between you and me. is conviction in speech. I'm fucked. Lets end this spree.
Ugly girl syndrome.
She's got the syndrome, they walk with fear, listen to the pretty people talk about their hair. Didn't do anything but care. The syndrome. It's there. She's ugly and she knows it. She know's things like who shot JF Kennedy, Refers to life as free. But The syndrome. She hates being ugly. New shoes, she got the blues, But who knew? She's got the syndrome. She's got the syndrome.
Boys know why.
She's gone. I heard you say. Went for a walk.
But when is she due back?
But when is she due back?
I wanted to take you to the place I know where the stars do show. We'll sit and stare while I contemplate my devious half.
I wanted to take you down to the river side. Show you the place where we can both hide. I'll let you speak those profanities. While no one can see.
But... You left in the morning and I've been waiting 10 years.
Isn't she due back or something?
Or something.
Or something.
When I squint you all look the same.
Your my Emily Kane.
Thankyou.
oh little boy lost. he takes himself so seriously. he brags of his misery. he likes to live dangerously.
there's definitely a distinct difference between the voice in my head and the one my mouth uses. I'm starting to think maybe we don't get along.
A thousand sane men, and only one that can see.
She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.
Sometimes thought is bad.
Lisa tried to show me, But I looked the other way. Mother asked to see her, But I made it all seem grey. Me I'm only as lucky as they want me. But I know it's not the end. You're just like me. You have bats and halos in your mind. When you drink that texas medicine. I wish you thought out loud. I wish I made you proud. But someone else told me they saw you. In the wigwam down the road.
Oh now you've gone and done it.
Oh now you've gone and done it.
In the wigwam down the road.
I tried to call and beg. But you shot me in the leg. I suffered a million pains. To let you win the game. Now writing this doesn't work. I'm all out of words. The lady of the swamp. She'll have me more now thankyou. But someone else told me they saw you. In the wigwam down the road.
Oh now you've gone and done it.
Oh now you've gone and done it.
In the wigwam down the road.
And time will tell who has failed and who's been left behind...
When you go your way and I go mine.
The least you can do is pretend to care. Made apparant through the seconds in your vacant stare. I have no place to go. I listen to your beat and go with the flow. It's all made easy when you never know. It's a piece of cake untill I threaten to show.
Threats are like wasps they don't dare sting. I'll pretend to notice while contemplating this horrible thing I bring on my left wing and cling to these words I sing:
''Master, do you hear its throbbing and thrumming?
lauded by heralds...
Progress is coming!
Nowhere that ears can endue its commotion and still the engine expects our very devotion.
Mark this machinery spinning its vengence, how it deforms and how it lessens us!
Drawn from our own, its power owes but one favor
Humbly to serve and impartially labour.''
This is my song that I sing to you.
He meant it to be true when I paint with blue.
''Where's his crown?''
What I hope you're thinking when we aren't talking.
You might think he loves you for your money. But I know what he really loves you for. It's your brand new leopard skin pill box hat.
''People that think they're jesus are insane. But not all insane people think they're jesus.''
This has to be the stupidest thing someone has said to me in recent memory.
''Inside the museums infinity goes up on trial. Voices that go 'this is what salvation must be like after a while''
''Jewls and binoculors hang from the head of the mule,
but these visions of johnanna, they make it all seem so cruel.''
You're so vain. You probably think this song is about you.
Yeah but...
Potential is where it could be.
Hypafetical could be spelt like that.
Pedants could be missing the point.
Writers could be something else.
It can only be that 'Blonde on Blonde' is the greatest album in existance.
He knows me so well.
Havn't read the NME in so long. Dunno what genre I belong. Popular culture, No longer applies to me.
Potential is what it could be.
I've given all I can and you still want more.
You missed the part when my tear hit the floor.
Still the emphisis is on I.
I'll never think you've beat me.
Emphasis on I.
This all looks beautiful where I am standing.
Distinction is lacking in this misunderstandi
Crash landed, stranded and branded left handed.
I didn't plan this. Your molasses kiss. Man did.
Oh my God!.. I think I might be a Hypochondriac!