stupid, dressed, Jesus son I'm slipping into the Charlie Manson blues I'm a stupid, dressed, Jesus son Head burning up, chain-smoking Everybody here is choking Shrunken heads are
hand rolled in a fist Marching to the Birmingham war, hey, marching to the Birmingham war Hey, what's the use of singing this song Some of you are not
This man was walking down by the curb He had lost his saddle in the mud This guy was crying, tears from his eyes Part of his body was paralyzed I thought
My long hair it blows, in the industrial breeze My fingernails grow, down to my knees The light that's beside me, is just laves of beans All that I know
(they may not be exact, but here is what i got from listening to the song part by part) i'm livin here on the third speck from the sun i think its
I just don't want them to say "Oh, it's a beautiful day" Let's just not talk about the gloom Let's all go die in my living room I want to be a movie
She is death All of the time She is death (She is death) All of the days (She is death) She is death (She is death) And I can't leave (And I can't leave
have no fears They've all got roles, plots and gears They have for years Train is running around in my brains Rain is flowing around in my veins Tears are
great, some new kind of drug They got their wires pulled out Tell ya man, they're unplugged, they're unplugged Everybody here is a mental case Their eyes are
When I walk with you I feel weird When I talk with you I feel weird When I'm standing here I feel strange When you're standing near I feel strange All
Batman Batman Batman, Batman, Batman Batman Batman Batman, Batman, Batman Batman Batman Batman, Batman, Batman Batman Batman Batman Batman Batman