Outside the cafe by the cracker factory you were practicin' a magic trick And my thoughts got rude as you talked and chewed On the last of your pick and
You showed me my tomorrow beside a box of matches A welcome threatening stir My hopes of being stolen might just ring true Depends who you prefer If
Pinned down by the dark Been fighting with my sheets Nearly crying in my sleep Yes, I'm battling that well taught gripe The most frustrating type You
I heard the truth was built to bend A mechanism to suspend the guilt Is what you are requiring still You've got to dance little liar Just like those
Tricking through the morning The tramp with the trampoline under his arm Shifts past your whiskers So stuck is the chum with the barking alarm Waits coiled
Fools on parade cavort and carry on for waiting eyes That you would rather be beside than in front of But she's never been the kind to be hollowed by
I was biting the time zone And we embellish the banks of our bloodstreams And threw caution to the colorful I am a fell asleep in the car Until the bumps
Fiendish wonder in a carnival's wake Old caresses once again irritate Tread softly stranger Move over toward the danger that you seek You think excitement
I thought I saw you in the battleship But it was only a look a like She was nothing but a vision trick Under the warning light She was close Close enough
If you can summon the strength, tow me I can't hold down the urgency You've got to make your decent slowly And oil up those sticky keys Coax me out,
The Prince of Humbug. Balderdash. Fiddle, Faddle, Drivel, Posh Twiddle, Twaddle, Blather, Bosh. Bilge and dodge and double-dutch And Flim-Flam I
: If you can summon the strength, tow me I can?t hold down the urgency You?ve got to make your descent, slowly And oil up those sticky keys. Coax me
: Fools on parade Cavort and carry on See waiting eyes That you'd rather be beside than infront of But she?s never been the kind to be hollowed by the
: Sat in the cafe by the cracker factory You were practicing a magic trick And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed On the last of your pick
: You showed me my tomorrow Beside a box of matches A welcome threatening stir My hopes of being stolen Might just ring true Depends who you prefer
: Tricking through the morning The tramp with the trampoline under his arm Shifts past your whiskers So spark is a charm with the barking alarm Weighs
: Pinned down by the dark When fighting with my sheets Nearly crying in my sleep Yes I'm battling that well told gripe the most retrainting type you
: When I got back from fixing my hair, you were directing traffic. Letting your story slip on the snow as if the transmission was automatic. It's arguable
