From "Ground Beef"
Fly with the ghosts in space
Many moons shall you haunt
Trade the faces you have
For the ones that you want
Jump on the bed too hard
Snap the frame and you slip
That's the iron you taste
From the blood on your lip
The rectangle has no hands
That's the one thing I know
It can't shake when it meets you
Or wave when you go
Don't you wish we were still back in school
Even my fantasies are uncool
Now the rectangle wants to live
But that's not my right to give
God bless the boys overseas
Who protect everyone
Like the blue strip of windshield
That censors the sun
I've got three babies placed face down
Which is yours, do you know
Pay attention, watch close
As I mix them like so
Don't you wish we were still back in school
Even my fantasies are uncool
And words are my fatal flaw
It just comes out blah blah blah
Don't stare
At the beautiful waitress
With braids in her hair
Don't stare
At the prisoner in the hospital
Chained to the wheelchair
Don't stare at the wreck on the off ramp
Or the misshapen child
With the scarlet birthmark
The French kissing teens
On the bench in the park
Don't you wish we were still back in school
Even my fantasies are uncool
Now the rectangle wants to live
But that's not my right to give
(Thellea Leveque - vocals
Lauren London - vocals)
Copyright 2002 Zach London
