| Brother you look like the Taj Mahal
|
| One colossal dome above you and the smell of something other
|
| A pillar and a scimitar
|
| A little…
|
| Yes I miss you like a formless hide
|
| Stretching over me and dangled from the coastguard in a chopper
|
| The scaffold of me all awry
|
| A little…
|
| Broke your shoulder on the library steps
|
| Hanging 'round there in the dark just doing nothing or whatever
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| What do you mean you saw the stars?
|
| You little…
|
| I could write it in a murder font
|
| I could say it in a way that would be lying or whatever
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| I don’t want them to tell us apart!
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| You say that I’m an overlord? |
| I’ve got myself a fire hydrant, with more tyrant
|
| In watery blasts, then all of my past!
|
| You seen me on the bridge a lot. |
| But I never leapt over, the pent upper
|
| My number is up, my number is up
|
| But infinite and joyless little high fives are singing «Praise the lord»
|
| And «Pitter patter this schooling? |
| Is this schooling?"and «You matter not,
|
| and you matter not»
|
| And is it, the flogging of a Flintstone
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| That I’m supposed to be?
|
| The cerebellum get schoolin', and no schoolin'
|
| The drummer goes on, the drama goes on
|
| (Teach me how to hold)
|
| And I don’t wanna make a scene
|
| I don’t wanna think about the 3rd world hunger or whatever
|
| 'Cause thinking always comes across
|
| A little…
|
| There’s a meeting of the worlds tonight
|
| Right above my head a miracle the sun erupt forever
|
| I barely ever raise my eyes
|
| A little
|
| (Teach him how to hold!)
|
| And oh I wanna make the peace
|
| And God I gotta be on the train past the ruins the wall and the druids oh please
|
| I’m whining like a breaking bus
|
| Maybe I can sit here and do nothing clever with a laser
|
| I’m not about to open up!
|
| You say that I’m an overlord? |
| I’ve got myself a fire hydrant, with more tyrant
|
| In watery blasts, then all of my past!
|
| You seen me on the bridge a lot. |
| But I never leapt over, the pent upper
|
| My number is up, my number is up
|
| But infinite and joyless little high fives are singing «Praise the lord»
|
| And «Pitter patter this schooling? |
| Is this schooling?"and «You matter not,
|
| and you matter not»
|
| And is it, the flogging of a Flintstone
|
| That I’m supposed to be?
|
| The cerebellum get schoolin', and no schoolin'
|
| The drummer goes on, the drama goes on
|
| The drummer goes on, the drama goes on
|
| My number is up, my number is up
|
| Earth, I take a long time, to learn about the big one
|
| Gorilla limb swipe and beat, and I learn nil about
|
| Earth
|
| Remember how men, would understand the heavens
|
| But leaving those streetlights on
|
| You can’t see nothing there
|
| So learn me anything good
|
| Teach me something that works, I take a long time, to learn about the big one
|
| Gorilla limb swipe and beat, and I learn dick about Earth
|
| Remember good men, would understand the heavens
|
| And leaving those streetlights on
|
| A ghost dark hemisphere Earth
|
| I take a long time, to learn about the big one
|
| Gorilla limb swipe and beat, and I learn dick about
|
| Earth
|
| Remember good man, you understand the heavens
|
| But leaving those streetlights on? |