Guided By Voices
Greenface
Everyone's standing in lineUnder the smell of him, it's making me sickAnd physical size makes you rightAnd the wall are like paper and iceSpeak to me, Revolution BoyCome out to me, Daughter of JoyI am the collector of thingsAnd all of the pain it bringsNow tell me the lessons we've botchedAnd lead me to the oxygen tentAnd who will be the speaker of the day?And can I exchange my surprise?Speak to me, Revolution BoyCome out to me, Daughter of JoyI am the collector of thingsAnd all of the pain it brings
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