Sirs

Backscratcher
giving it time waiting on bomb shells disrupting our pleasantries sleeping in trenches we're restless standing in line caught up in frustrations the coming years are sure to change our minds seeing dead friends in picture frames and giving the condemned the final word undertakers whistling their hearts out their hearts out undertakers burning gates to keep the robbers coming in the one who blows the whistle makes the calls he kills them all back scratcher back scratcher lend me your hand the mornings are surely the best times to be alive news paper news paper tell me your rhymes for many fine days we had faith in the words of the rats in the sky Songtextegirl you got words bleeding out your eyes i swear well your days are numbered sadly we're breathing in the weekend Living someone else's life with someone else's words peering through cracks in doorways they wont see how we'll get them there we're making noises for those blind boys to follow keep watch our golden owl with eyes as big as the statue that holds our blue balloons bearded men march in single file sporting rifles laughing loud to catch the foxes where they may roam she doesn't think to look around anymore she'll just do what she's told Aus Songtexte Mania