That fine fever brought us here... Lambasted eyeballs... When we kiss the dirt the orchids laugh... What a gut pageant, we could play for hours... What a gut pageant, meat for the flowers... You break out of a paper bag, and wake up on the street... Just kidding... You don't have to go... I asked him why the grass is blue and stray boys don't go home... Why 4 a.m.'s so screwy... He says "Sleep through it"... What a gut pageant, we could play for hours... What a gut pageant, meat for the flowers... Not too special not too strange... Just the way I like 'em... You find an empty promise and stick by it... Not too pretty not too sweet... Just the way I like you... When you kiss the dirt the orchids laugh harder than me... Tell me another one... I could sit for hours... When anyone laughs I know I'm a coward... When we kiss the dirt the orchids laugh harder than me...
Compositor: M Kristin Hersh (BMI)Editores: 4ad Music Limited (PRS), European Copyright Collection Inc (BMI), Yes Dear Music (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #4016173 em 09/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM