| Oh, the sun drenched French girls won’t relate
|
| To a frozen glare from the Northern State
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| Dreamin' of fat happy babies
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| Kickin' ladies on the Metro now
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| And the mirrors won’t sing back divine
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| Be it choppin your hair or choppin a line
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| But you laugh-crack-up they
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| Laugh-crack up and smile
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| Whoo! |
| Alright — let’s fall apart
|
| And the clock starts here and now
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| Tick tick tick tick tick tick OW!
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| She said 'your allegory is far too blunt'
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| I said 'this ain’t no laboratory, you’re the cunt'
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| She said 'emotional distance, it doesn’t rhyme
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| Or resonate brillance from in it’s time'
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| But is it lyrical genius or crap rock poetry?
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| I say the lineage runs Morrison, Patti Smith, then me
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| But maybe the reason we’re so uninspired
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| Is cuz the hour is late and the bodies are tired
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| Yeah I think everyone here can agree
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| That a party ain’t great cuz the booze is free
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| Naw, free spirits ain’t settin' no one’s spirit free
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| Yeah! |
| Uh huh, I’m falling apart
|
| And the clock starts here and now
|
| Tick tick tick tick OW!
|
| Wind it up now
|
| People don’t dance no more
|
| They just stand there like this:
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| They cross their arms and stare you down
|
| And drink and moan and diss
|
| People don’t dance no more
|
| They just stand there like this:
|
| They cross their arms and stare you down
|
| And drink and moan and diss
|
| People don’t dance no more
|
| They just stand there like this:
|
| They cross their arms and stare you down
|
| And drink and moan and diss
|
| People don’t dance no more
|
| They just stand there like this:
|
| They cross their arms and stare you down
|
| And drink and moan and diss
|
| I used to think life’s a bitter pill, but its a grand old time |