| Stop me. |
| Don’t stop. |
| Now I won’t go
|
| Sit slack with back to wall
|
| Not my time to give and now you’re into it?
|
| Could crush velvet down the hall
|
| Man shot into sand, the famous formulation
|
| Shot into sand the famous formulation
|
| I can see you looking on my way
|
| Why don’t you do something about it?
|
| I don’t feel I’m welcome in this space
|
| But I won’t let you unnerve me
|
| (Sit slack with back to wall Could crush velvet down the hall)
|
| Man shot into sand, the famous formulation
|
| Shot into sand, the famous formulation
|
| Still stuck at the Laundromat, still stuck
|
| «Will it be nickels and dimes?
|
| Will it pounds and pence?
|
| No dollars, no sense»
|
| Angel, sweet angel. |
| Sing for the teardrops, the TV dinners
|
| Suck on the kick stick
|
| Suck on the kick stick
|
| Before you’re too fucked up and misplace it
|
| Suck on the kick stick
|
| Before you’re too fucked up and misplace it
|
| Suck on the kick stick
|
| Before you’re too fucked up and misplace it
|
| I’m a lights on kind of lover
|
| See these fang-made rings? |
| But she said
|
| «Don't sink them in, punching walls this thin»
|
| I’ll clutch my belly at your trouble, although those few
|
| They’ve all said, they’ve all said, they’ve all said…
|
| «I can see you looking on my way
|
| Why don’t you do something about it?
|
| I don’t feel I’m welcome in this space
|
| But I won’t let you unnerve me»
|
| This is it this is it
|
| (Sit slack with back to wall
|
| Could crush velvet down the hall)
|
| Man shot into sand, the famous formulation
|
| Shot into sand, the famous formulation |