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| Lazy Flies (Beck) |
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| Lyrics: |
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The magistratehe puts on his gloves
And he looks to the cloudsall pink and disheveled
There must be some blueprintsome creed of the Devil
Inscribed in our minds
A hideous game vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaveswho wants to be there
To sweep the debristo harness dead horses
Ride in the suna life of confessions
Written in the dust
Out in the mangrovesthe mynah birds cry
In the shadows of sulfurthe trawlers drift by
They're chewing dried meat in a house of disrepute
The dust of opiates and syphilis patients
On brochure vacations
Fear has a glare that traps you like searchlights
Puritans staretheir souls are fluorescent
The skin of a robot vibrates with pleasure
Matrons and gigolos carouse in the parlor
Their hand-grenade eyesinvalid and blind
A hideous game vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaveswho wants to be there
To sweep the debristo harness dead horses
Ride in the suna life of confessions
Written in the dust
La la la lala la la la
La la la lala la la la
La la la lala la la la
La la la lala la lala la la la
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