Bernard Becomes the Wicker Chair

Gang

Soft, woolen furs surround the hands and feet Manacles for the day Enter the bowl around which fingers steep - clamouring For calm cloudy days Because on cloudy days green paper rains and nobody is poor It's all daydreams When will you look up? See what's real Dream in the dark Green you'll feel Vision is clouded by the clues and claims The body I owned is now for sale No longer whole you can buy fingernails, skin and brains Cut off my head so that I don't need a hat Don't need a bed and I don't need a flat Cut off my arms and hand them over to rats So that they have hands to handle their paper stacks What, what, what's more terrifying Fear itself or those who are frightened? Is it fear of being ignorant or fear of being enlightened? We've escaped God and we have not yet been smote Beyond irony we're the punchline to our own joke Propaganda screams loudest Yet no-one stops to have a proper gander Cut off your head And regrow your thoughts like the salamander As Bridgette bellows from her lair Bernard becomes the wicker chair One eye Ross don't do depth perception He's at a loss when facing in any direction Cut off your head Take that thing off Cut off your head Place it softly on the ground Cut off your head Let your body do the rest Cut off your head And boogie on down Cut off your head Cut that thing from your shoulders Cut off your head Roll it down the mountain like the heaviest of boulders Cut off your head Stop thinking about getting older Cut off your head And boogie on down Cut off your head Take that thing off Cut off your head Place it softly on the ground Cut off your head Let your body do the rest Cut off your head And boogie on down Calm cloudy days Because on cloudy days green paper rains and paper cuts us all It's all daydreams When will you look up? See what's real Dream in the dark And green you'll feel Lick my back it'll get you high You little swine I'm gonna turn you into bread Do be my dough baby you'd taste sublime I thought of that earlier The thought was all mine Finally dear friends The curtain call came The boss is defeated The beast has been slain

Written by: Eric TormeyLyrics © O/B/O DistroKidLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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Bernard Becomes the Wicker Chair

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