lyrics
Aimlessly walking the streets
Stopping at strange lawns
Picking up some dirty toys
As the evening yawns
Far away the neglected room
The dog shit on the floor
Just leave before they get back
Duck in the green door
You get a twenty if you dance to david bowie
I'm milking the cash machine
Something about that wig she wore
That seemed obscene
Miasma in a smokey jug
On the edge of town
Still they won't play my song
And I won't lay it down
Beer and fluid made their mark
in the taxis rear
Time to play the slide trombone
In the drivers ear
It's hard to tell sometimes
Why they do what they do
Film unrolled across the bar
Offended people spew
Is this really where I live
It seems so still
Here take this credit card
I think I'm going to be ill
credits
license
all rights reserved