Solarium malaria lookin' for the stereo

Wanted to save being excommunicated from the area A it's ok

In the city she said he cut a cord of wood

No bigger than thimble but still plenty good A it's ok

'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies

On account of the world economy that's makin' us sick

Go get the man who said he's on to me

He thinks we're in the kitchen with our sticks

But he don't know that Paris is burnin' down

You'd never know it in this town

The governor's walkin' around like he's got tricks for you

Catch as Casius never become the killing machine

Run him over ruff shod 'til he bleeds army green out

So devout to the saint that lost his seat he never seen

Semi automatic rosary out devout

'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies

In a world too sad for Solomon we just sit

I'll watch your economy

I'll tell you when the police have it fixed

Paris is burnin' down

You'd never know it in this town

The governor's walkin' around like he's got tricks for you

So take a minute to laugh it over

We'll make sure it's all true

Just like she said

Behind the barn last December eve

Baby falls 40feet caught by a street cleaner coming home from the union hall

He saw the fall A it's ok

JP Sousa found a radio a radio

Sousa found a place to go

A radio in his head that said

It's just a bump on a rash of robberies

An old sand lot anomaly that's savin' this day

In a world too sad for sodomy

We're just sitting in the kitchen with our stray

But Paris is burnin' down

Governors are walkin' around

We'll make sure that they do right by you

So you think you might go to Beatrice

Even though the letter was never found

Maybe it will come tomorrow noon

She is askin' her fallen saint to

Please return her straitlaced fighter

Who don't know who she is he don't know who she is

Where are you my sweet Desmond Doss

Have you softly gone to winter

Here I've brought you your two two dollar bills back

But I'm not waiting for sweet Eliza

She can have her water colors back

I found them on last December eve

You look strangely quite so familiar

The way you talk of suppertime but I don't know who she is

Don't know who she is

And you you bring this beloved stranger

At the foot of this pile on Gideon's bed

She gave me a needlepoint motorbike

So go and take this to sweet Eliza

It was written and gently given to

The courier pending arrival soon

Could you hold me just one more older

Then I'll go as your fallen fighter

Waiting at the door can't see you any more

Here my dear a sweet Nostrovia

In a letter sent to December

I will wait for you to just humble me home