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Fictional account of the way shit's really gonna go down But in a letter to Tel Aviv my little inquiry is there still life left in the dead sea Well I got my reply You got a violent sister in your filing system You got a stone cold fridge You got a wax figurine You got the spare set of keys, now To the shittiest, to the shittiest museum Beggars and thieves sleep at my door And I dream only when they're whispering She painted a map of the sun on her floor It was much like the likeness of her sister (And it was much like the likeness, much like the likeness) Violent sister in your filing system You got a stone cold fridge You got a wax figurine You got the spare set of of keys To the shittiest, to the shittiest museum Violent sister in your filing system You got a stone cold fridge You got a wax figurine You got the spare set of keys, baby SongtexteTo the shittiest, to the shittiest museum Angels that fly with their feet on the ground Will be lifting up their heels so mightily And the devils that laugh on the shoulders of man Will they be pulling on my reigns so tightly? I've got all these devils pulling hard on my reigns So tightly I've got all these devils pulling hard on my reigns Fictional account of the way shit's really gonna go down Aus Songtexte Mania