Jump, Little Children

Underground Elite
Mississippi moonshine got me doubled over laughing in pain back at the chevron the chicken wings made you feel just the same the bucket of bayou that licked you like a five pound of salt I threw it to the puppy that was yappin on the hot asphalt the wisest word I ever heard was written on that bathroom wall in the Mississippi River greasy spoon in southern Arkansas skimming cross the scrawl of the underground elite retorts I see a beacon to the traveler paraphrased sweet and short A word to the wise, a breath to the philospher a hand to the devil, a gift the masses whatever you do don't, whatever you do don't ... whatever you do, don't take my advise mister blister burning on the fumes of a hard days earned a bullet through the blue highways til the whole damn world is turned there are juices and there's candies and there's sodas of all brand names but the message on the walls from town to town has all been the same A word to the wise, a breath to the philospher a hand to the devil, a gift the masses whatever you do don't, whatever you do don't ... whatever you do, don't take my advise permanent marker with a fat tip Songtextescratch off the paint with a dime grease up the mirror with some lipstick a revolution is not a crime finally before my eyes it was there for me to see at a truck stop in the lonely hills of eastern Tennessee I'd tell you how I felt if I could but I just can't when I happened on that bathroom with a fresh coat of paint A word to the wise, a breath to the philospher a hand to the devil, a gift the masses whatever you do don't, whatever you do don't ... whatever you do, don't take my advise Aus Songtexte Mania