| On a clear day
|
| You can see yourself in real estates and shop windows
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| I’m all ears today
|
| And besides, it’s your birthday
|
| What else can I do?
|
| I’m insatiable, inner animal
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| God damn it, there’s no reasonable telling why
|
| I’m the tick, tick, tocking on the wall
|
| Red, fine, crooked lines and all
|
| Between the time you bide and the time you waste
|
| With haste we steady go
|
| Taken for a long, bitter joke
|
| I’m melting to the road, the endless kind
|
| I’m the tick, tick, tocking on the wall
|
| Red, fine, crooked lines and all
|
| Between the time you bide and the time you waste
|
| We’re shrinking our damn guts to save for enough
|
| For enough, for enough
|
| We’ll cheat until we’re rich as shit
|
| Open up, open up, open up
|
| And tell me, tell me what is wrong with a little cheapened sale
|
| A symbol for what I disgust
|
| Now show me what is real
|
| I’m the tick, tick, tocking on the wall
|
| Red, fine, crooked lines and all
|
| Between the time you bide and the time you waste
|
| The tick, tick, tocking on the wall
|
| Red, fine, crooked lines and all
|
| Between the time you bide and the time you waste
|
| Between the time you bide and the time you waste |