1. |
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John and Jackie in their tower alone
just wonderin' what to do
with their wedding gifts
and their swollen red lips
and the pieces of their party, too.
Did he love her enough
Did she let him enough?
is that all there was to this affair?
A bottle of wine, a few sertraline
some sweaty fingers in her hair--
a love beyond repair.
But I know that they really want to make it in this world alone
Don't want a house, don't want a spouse, don't want a prayer,
don't want a job, don't want a car, don't want a trunk
A doctor or accountant or lawyer, just beginner's luck.
You could be particle dust on the radiowaves
long after your body is gone
and if you're not careful who you leave your estate to
coca-cola may one day own all of your songs.
Ziggy & Darby swore to just 5 years
but only one of 'em really told the truth.
Isn't it wild to think that you're wildest dreams
might be wild enough to finish you?
This machine kills artists, too!
but you know that you don't really want to make it in this world alone
You want a staff to prepare your food,
you want an audience whose eyes are stuck
and a stack of dead presidents, too.
You want beginner's luck.
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2. |
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I've got a song in my head, it keeps me up all night
at 3AM if I look up its all black and white
During the day I get the blues just looking at the sky,
I hired a nurse for the weakends, she brings me back to life
I hired a hearse for the weak ends if it don't go right
I got a real expensive lawyer to argue my side
Oh yes
If it don't go right I'm going to need someone to take my side
so she said,
"If you got a drink then I'll take a drink
and if you don't want to think, oh I got just the thing and if you've got no plans then honey, I'm your man.
I'll dig a hole just to prove to You how damned I am."
That's what she said.
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3. |
Problem Solver
03:17
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Our lips were red, our hands were led
to passing back and forth a revolver
one on one russian roulette
fell into your bed and then out of your bed
like a real "problem solver"
and I felt like a crushed rat
getting pulled out of the arms of a mousetrap
then crushed once again
by the insignificance of my death and thus life.
So I'll just sulk here until I rot,
in the bottom of your kitchen trash can
and once the smell is gone I'll be forgot
and you'll continue your affair with the garbage man
Oh how sad, how truly fucking tragic
that no tragedy has ever taken place here before
when we were so sure that this stress was post traumatic.
And we crawled into our heart-shaped Trojan horse We never could make love like we could war.
But oh wait a minute, Mr. Postman, didn't you see this coming?
Yeah, wait a minute what kind of man delivers a letter like that and then just takes off running?
Let it rot in the mailbox
and maybe someday he'll come back.
You can place your final bet on True Love
like its just another horse at the track
and all of your dreams will do nothing
but watch you sleep.
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