MOG

Well, do you need a lot of what you've got to survive?
Pick the receiver up, try to meet ends
Keep in line you're an old friend stranger
Go to the family doctor it’s all worth it, all worth it
Take 'em all for the long ride
I said, "Uh-oh", I said "Uh-oh"
And he said," I am not allowed much danger

He sparkles, shimmers, shines
I can, you know that I can, well

No one wants to be uptight anymore
The end and the best of it
You know you might have to use it
Well, a rattlesnake up in Buffalo, Montana
Well, so long, farewell, goodbye

You'll burn me if effigy and I'll burn you in effigy"
And sell it you might have done
Oh, if you could bottle
You can be ashamed
And the telephone goes off
And the televisions on

Oh, and you might
Ha, that boy fell down on his harelip, ow, ow
Went to the county line and paid the rent"
He sparkles, shimmers, shines
Here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine

That comes from hurting deep down inside
Oh, my goddamn
No one wants to be uptight anymore
And I feel dizzier by the mile

Take 'em all for the long ride

He bit the leg of the old sheriff
All, all wrong, and it's all, all gone
Go to the grocery store, buy some new friends
Said,"Hell, the money's spent

Or you can add it up and give a shit, give a shit
And we, we’ve all been wronged
And you'll go around town

From the top of the ocean, yeah
Or, you can add it up and give a shit, give a shit
You can be ashamed
I can, you know that I can
Well I get claustrophobic
Oh, and you might
Thick syrup standin’ in lines
I’m on the corner of this and this
The malls are the soon to be ghost towns
And find out the beginning, the end, and the best of it
Or be so proud of what you've done

All, all wrong, and it’s all, all gone
Here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine

Take 'em all for the sense of happiness
From the bottom of the sky, goddamn
Thick syrup standin’ in lines
Well I get claustrophobic
Oh, if you could compact your conscience
And find out the beginning
Or be so proud of what you've done
Well so long, farewell, goodbye
Let's all have another Orange Julius
The malls are the soon to be ghost towns
Well I, I might be wrong, but you, you tag along
But not no one, not now, not ever or anyone
And you'll go around town
And sell it, save it for another time
Let's all have another Orange Julius
Oh, if you could compact your conscience