| Turning back ten thousand years,
|
| It’s all a blur where the taxi’s go
|
| Monster man a willing friend,
|
| Lucy serves the melon cold
|
| Violent and delicious souls,
|
| Four red trucks dressed illegally,
|
| Mother knows how the bugle blows
|
| Gonna get caught, gonna get caught,
|
| Gonna get caught in her rug, babe
|
| This is not a conclusion,
|
| No revolution,
|
| Just a little confusion
|
| On where your head has been
|
| Boat made out of paper float,
|
| Dreams made up for the banana king, darling
|
| Crumbs you have lapped freely of,
|
| Devious we all have been
|
| Violent and delicious souls
|
| Violent and delicious souls
|
| This is not a conclusion,
|
| No revolution,
|
| Just a little confusion
|
| On where your head has been |