| just like stories of coffee machines
|
| breakin' corner stones
|
| comes as a minor surprise
|
| but where does it come from like that
|
| I’ll call a stand-in stoned box
|
| flyin hells up a russian cut
|
| common and sane
|
| it’s common insane
|
| I am gettin there
|
| not from the salvation of cat
|
| not from the salvation of starfish
|
| crossing over borderlines
|
| takin' down all the ticket lines
|
| why do they sell you that?
|
| you could’ve saved
|
| you could’ve saved me from that
|
| you’re not awake above my eyes
|
| longer time on residental side
|
| fisherman is a shoulder
|
| more like a beegee song
|
| not like a radio station theme man
|
| just like a beegee
|
| tourists invasions of tragedy stations
|
| long distance callers are warning the nations
|
| that’s not the real thing
|
| no that’s not a bee gee
|
| fisherman won’t you tell me the story
|
| why ain’t that you on the picture of glory
|
| that’s not the real thing
|
| no that’s not the real thing
|
| don’t go down on boats that are broken
|
| don’t go saying that song is a token
|
| that’s not the real thing
|
| no that’s not a beegee
|
| spinning wheel crashes in silk laboratories
|
| put all the parasols back in the lorry
|
| that’s not the real thing
|
| no that’s not the real thing
|
| getting cold fly like random white crosses
|
| why did you bring that to my porch tuner dog
|
| said that word is calling me
|
| and now I know it’s calling me
|
| don’t take my head and pull my teeth
|
| and shook my head like a silver sleeve
|
| not the station cought my tought
|
| no not that fear or atmosphere
|
| I can stay up reading product warning
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| when all I do is not getting cought in this
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| don’t cut my hands in 2 why a car some day
|
| is a lot that don’t think
|
| I got it I found it I got it
|
| I had it I threw it I blew it |