| Shocked? |
| Dismayed?
|
| Or maybe just a little upset
|
| Well, no, this isn’t pretty
|
| And yes, my hair was longer then
|
| It’s what happens when your choices
|
| Are narrowed to fashion or violence
|
| Adjustments, you make adjustments
|
| There’s nothing left wrong with me That money can’t cure
|
| But I don’t want to be somebody else’s
|
| Learning experience
|
| Some rich kid’s way to spend his allowance
|
| I want magic in my real world
|
| Some modern voodoo to make it work
|
| Voodoo to make it work
|
| I remembered what you sputtered
|
| Chewing your stupid fuel
|
| You said, you said, The amplification of the eternal
|
| Present is the technology of desire. |
| Shoo!
|
| I thought you were already corroded…
|
| I said, You don’t know me, I’ll be the one
|
| Pulling that perfect crime, flushing
|
| This place down that huge hole
|
| When I quit cigarettes.
|
| But, it was just more gas
|
| We were all wearing falsies
|
| …weren't we?
|
| So I’ll stop being clever
|
| and just say it straight
|
| I guess I set impossible goals
|
| and I don’t know when to quit
|
| Is that it? |
| Is that it? |
| Is that it? |
| Is that it?
|
| Found a cure for daylight yet?
|
| Tom Tomorrow and Sermonette
|
| Found a cure for gravity yet?
|
| Yes, I’m addicted to roofs and jets
|
| Found a cure for hunger yet?
|
| Black coffee, cigarettes
|
| Found a cure for desire yet?
|
| I don’t wanna talk about that,
|
| I don’t wanna talk about that
|
| I don’t wanna talk about that
|
| Why do you keep asking me?
|
| My goals?
|
| My goals are to find a cure for irony
|
| and make a fool out of God. |