[Chorus]
I'd be lying if I didn't say
Fortune's wheel's just for show
In this brutal turning
Nothing changes the slow grind away
Fancy language dies
And everyone's happy to see it go
[Verse 1]
Everyone's happy to strike for more pay
Happy to strike for more pay
Happy to strike
[Chorus]
I'd be lying if I didn't say
Fortune's wheel's just for show
In this brutal turning
Nothing changeth the cold light of day
Fancy language dies
And everyone's happy to see it go
[Verse 2]
A snow angel's a fucking idiot somebody made
A fucking idiot someone made in the snow
[Bridge]
Then you look up by chance from the disco dance
You're doing into the light of the moon
It's June and you've improved
Yеs, you are renewеd
Yes, you are renewed
[Interlude]
I think it's you
I think it's you
I think it's you
I think it's you
I think it's you
I think it's you
[Spoken Outro]
Oh Aggie, your beating heart was a carriage made of gold
How the arithmetic of this guitar melts your heart is beyond me
And when I say beyond me, I mean beyond me
Love ya? I barely know you, it goes to show
Who really knows what love is?
The branches, the breeze, the roiling seas
None of it seems worth mentioning
Though I'm in the process of figuring it out
Even if it's elementary
A scrapyard angel, wings of brass
Ash, a river called trash
And speaking of lifelike, this is what life's like
You thread the needle, then the needle runs dry
You thread the needle, then the needle runs dry
"Inward Crackle," says the fink to himself
Oh well, I wasn't taught how to
Go off like a, go off like a, go off like a, go off like a
Go off like a hydrogen bomb
But I do radiate a certain glow
It flutters and fades, a Ferris wheel on the run from the snow
You have to look at it from all angles
Says the cubist judge from cubist jail
The sky glows, the heat is unbearable
Parrot weather
My decision is final, a crazy game
I traded in moonlight for the morning dew
I know dusk when I see one
I know rust when I see it
You come out swinging, but you go down swinging too
You pay good money for a million dollar view
Flipping the pages of Chatelaine
The rude empiricism of every troubled loser
Quote, unquote, unquote
A moment alone please
A moment alone please
A moment alone please
With this, with this
With this rhapsody
With this rhapsody
Vital information from where I'm standing
Low-born Madonna
With her typewriters in the rain
Clacking their misfortunes, speech, speech
A figure of light's trapped inside your kimono
Absent friends, where'd you go?
And while we're on the subject of psychotic passwords
Honing in on nothing
Everywhere Rome goes
Everybody wants her
Ah fuck, I feel like a discovery someone once saw
On a clear day
Dump him