| Take me down to the ballgame where the yellow grass grows
|
| Where the dead lay in piles under circling crows
|
| Where the trials and tribulations of the bump and scrape
|
| Of your life just melt into a bleak dismay.
|
| Take me to the glue factory where the horsies go
|
| For their very last little dog and pony show
|
| Where we melt em into glue and hold em up to our nose
|
| Until we can’t get home, til we’re laughing alone
|
| And the bones rattle and we dance
|
| And we all join in the chant
|
| Singing «baby baby baby, you got nothing to fear because nothing this shitty
|
| can last»
|
| The dance of the doomed is so easy to learn
|
| Just stick your dick in until that shit starts to burn
|
| And stand there, stopping staring, never caring
|
| Suspicions on your lips but there’s never no sharing.
|
| Oh no. |
| Oh no. |
| Oh.
|
| And the bones rattle and we dance
|
| And we all join in the chant
|
| Singing «baby baby baby, you got nothing to fear because nothing this shitty
|
| can last»
|
| «baby baby baby, you got nothing to fear because nothing this shitty can last» |