Where the black ink will drip across the [incomprehensible] of your eyes
And you tell me that I’m too abstruse
I just thought I was a kind of bird
It gets in their lungs as it floats through the air
And your teeth are worth more than you can spare-oh
Across the great chasms and the schisms
Don’t speak about the cycles of life
A reckless choice of words
I swear I just stood there not saying a word
But the yoke isn’t easy, in fact it’s a drag
And the sudden aneurysms
Acid blown to cornfields and mountains of rice
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
‘Cause your thoughts are so soft
All over the suburbs, across the great lawns
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
I could cut 'em with a spork or a bride's knife
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
And they're crop dusting gardens all over this town
And the wine made our minds too loose
Don’t tell me that it just isn’t fair