| Dig around in the garbage
|
| Save up some halibut bones in a jar
|
| Scrape a winter’s worth of salt deposits
|
| From the rusty frame of my car
|
| Ask the experts, maybe they’ll know
|
| Call up my teacher in Cambridge
|
| See what he remembers
|
| Throw white phosphorus in the fireplace
|
| Look for clues in the embers
|
| Call the hotline, give them a phony last name
|
| Try to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine
|
| Tryin' to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine
|
| Time’s running short
|
| Always seems to run shorter
|
| Have some supplies sent
|
| From up just past the northern border
|
| Keep a line out to the people who take the long view
|
| Only share my research
|
| With sick lab rats like me
|
| Trapped behind the beakers
|
| And the Erlenmeyer flasks
|
| Cut off from the world, I may not ever get free
|
| But I may one day
|
| Tryin' to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine
|
| Try to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine
|
| So many suffering from the same affliction
|
| Coming up on the breakthrough
|
| The clock’s ticking
|
| Dig down amongst my calculations
|
| Check my math
|
| Up there on the surface
|
| Everybody’s getting ready for the bloodbath
|
| Stem the tide, stem the tide
|
| They’re calling down for reinforcements
|
| Tryin' to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine
|
| Tryin' to find
|
| An antidote for strychnine |