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…
