We took your invitations and shoved them down into your eyesockets one by one
Fly on you fat bastards, fly on hot rod classics
Out at the ball park or up in your office
You're never alone while our work goes on
False impressions are your grave
Misdirections across the waves
Come back around to me
[Fly on, fat bastards, fly on, hot rod classics]
Vermin shades of AT&T.
No one likes to answer questions less than me-myself-a-lees
But strength is hard to come by in the freeze.

Burial Dub: CRY FI DEM!!!!!!!!

Crap went down
Hello, young lovers, I have
Interceded on behalf
Of what frosted golden spirochete?
I'm oversee communication lines
One-weight prophets
Signals ingested with conversion charts
Young but not invisible lovers all
From pole to pole to soul
Vicious businesses aside, you know
Send out my agents to mark freeze
With fluid "the man who shot women"
Full of men that I may seem.

Across the planetary shine
My loneliness cuts circles
Somewhere I wait for dawn
She waits strange and whole
Old Paris knots
Sword swallower's gut
Blue blood until the vein is cut
That is why I'm living cold
Strange that I'm cold
Electric spider, radio wire
Crawls across the skin
At Jimmy West's on Park I can slip right in
Direct hits scored
With shots in the dark.

Just like your friendly astronauts of recent history
Jackyl faith launches penetration in controlled trajectories
And meanwhile, I haven't got the faintest clue of how to use myself to do the best for you
I don't know what to do and you don't know what you're doing.
I'd like to thank the thugs on the empire's fringe for letting me work inside like a syphilis, now
Move aside or you're twilight

What a devilish cut you are
Big like the fine fingered side that falls like sheets of rain
A sweet or not sweet killer, beautiful or ugly
High-fisted sword man
And after a while I get the angles strangled and high, man
Like you'll never call or write with any frequency to me

When the spiral robot monkey come a knockin' upon your sleeping crest
When the spiral robot monkey come a knockin' upon your sleeping crest
He's gonna drill his monitor into your heaving breast
When the monkey satellitus is in your body map
When the monkey satellitus is in your body map
You're not gonna know all the shadows he shows
When zap turns into crap

Writer : HAGERTY, NEIL M/HERREMA, JENNIFER R
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing