| Well, I didn’t eat the weekend
|
| But I put the weight back on again
|
| And our kid got back from Munich
|
| He didn’t like it much
|
| Has a psyche that hadn’t been synthesized
|
| Just like machines
|
| It’s getting like that here now
|
| It just goes to show
|
| I got no nerves left Monday morning
|
| And I think I’ll cut my dick off
|
| The trouble it got me in Went home to my slum canyon
|
| On my way I looked up I saw turrets of Victorian wealth
|
| I saw John the ex-fox
|
| Sleeping in some outside bogs
|
| There’s a silent rumble
|
| In the buildings of the night council
|
| Executing the mind controllers
|
| I drive right through the gates
|
| Sucked in my roll tops
|
| And I guess this just goes to show
|
| The lie dream of the casino soul
|
| I’m a Mick Jaggar right now
|
| In a tongue-tied, wired state
|
| Cause Sunday morning dancing
|
| I had an awake dream
|
| I was in the supervision dept.
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| Of a bigtown store
|
| Security floors one to four
|
| They had cameras in the clothes dummies.
|
| A man came up to them
|
| He wanted sex in the dummies eyes
|
| Then came up the cry:
|
| Security, mobilize!
|
| Meanwhile in the sticks
|
| Proles wretch, dance in cardboard pants
|
| And I guess this goes to show
|
| The lie dream of a casino souls scene |