| There are bodies strewn all over my bedroom floor
|
| I don’t know how they got there
|
| But I’m sure it’s the fuckers in their ships
|
| Taunting everyone who walks by
|
| As they sail through my front lawn
|
| Through my bedroom window
|
| Not a window at all
|
| But a hole that peasant left
|
| With his cannonball fun
|
| They look so pretty
|
| Pretty weak to have let it go on this long
|
| There are still bodies thrown on my bedroom floor
|
| I don’t know how they got there
|
| But I have a plan now
|
| So they say we aren’t really here
|
| So don’t just try to punish us
|
| You are the one who has lost his mind
|
| We didn’t bring the bodies
|
| We didn’t throw them on your floor
|
| We didn’t bring the bodies
|
| We didn’t throw them on your floor
|
| You are the one who has lost his mind
|
| They look so pretty
|
| Pretty weak to have let it go on this long
|
| So they say we aren’t really here
|
| So don’t just try to punish us
|
| You are the one who has lost his mind
|
| We didn’t bring the bodies, we didn’t throw them on your floor
|
| You are the one who has lost his mind
|
| They look so pretty
|
| Pretty weak to have let it go on this long |