| The boxes piled high
|
| No order, no mind
|
| I’ll save the work for you
|
| 'Cause I’ll be busy sorting through
|
| The merrier designs I make inside
|
| And on the hollowest pages
|
| The pen dissolves without the bait
|
| I’ll save the work for you
|
| 'Cause I’ll be busy sorting through
|
| The merrier designs I make inside
|
| Don’t try to be a model
|
| Don’t want to waste more space
|
| Oh, look at our models
|
| Oh, the blasted space
|
| Tune in me tonight
|
| Turn down all the lights
|
| I’m just along for the ride
|
| The moving pictures we see
|
| The colored cities or the sea
|
| Go and taste them one by one
|
| Until that time, you can’t be done
|
| Know your station you just can’t direct
|
| Let’s plant a white one just for you
|
| And chart the growth until the move
|
| I’ll save the work for you
|
| 'Cause I’ll be busy sorting through
|
| The merrier designs I make inside
|
| Don’t try to be a model
|
| Don’t want to waste more space
|
| Oh, look at our models
|
| Oh, the blasted space
|
| Tune in me tonight
|
| Turn down all the lights
|
| I’m just along for the ride
|
| Go and taste them one by one
|
| Until that time, you can’t be done
|
| Know your station you just can’t direct
|
| Don’t try to be a model
|
| Don’t want to waste more space
|
| Oh, look at our models
|
| Oh, the blasted space
|
| Tune in me tonight
|
| Turn down all the lights
|
| I’m just along for the ride |