歌曲 | Your Beef Is Mine |
歌手 | Fog |
专辑 | Ditherer |
作曲 : Fog | |
A three-piece suit on me, | |
A tutu on you. | |
In an empty airplane hangar | |
At a table for two. | |
A pregnant pause. | |
A thought exhaled. | |
In the jowls of the work-week | |
Spare me the details. | |
And if you ever did | |
Spy a giant squid | |
With your lazy eye | |
With its drooping lid | |
We're in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine | |
Well, Vern sunburns himself | |
For to peel the old him off | |
To find the red him underneath | |
The redder him, more raw. | |
Scooping out his brains | |
With a rusted grapefruit spoon | |
Drinking his own urine | |
In the executive washroom. | |
And if you've ever been | |
An unconvincing spokesman in | |
A seminar and telling jokes | |
Naked and forgot your notes | |
We're in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine. | |
But if you ever died | |
Or ever genuinely tried | |
Or if you ever were denied | |
Your relevance or sense of pride | |
If you sputtered and you stuttered | |
And you tied yourself in knots | |
And under your breath you muttered | |
Something someone else forgot | |
And if you ever have | |
Missed your flight to Leningrad | |
Running down some airport stairs | |
Semen running down your leg | |
We're in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine | |
Well, who tells you to work? | |
"The devil." | |
Who tells you when you get a day off? | |
"The devil." | |
And who gives you your pay? | |
"The damn devil." | |
Aw, and who takes it away? | |
"The devil." | |
That pampered quarterback | |
Oh, he don't know how to act | |
Oh, he don't know how to throw | |
I want my ****ing money back | |
Oh, I want to think without | |
Hearing my mind's mouth talk | |
Be neutered and lobotomized | |
And pushed out of a truck | |
And if you ever were | |
Somewhere where you never were | |
Inside someone else's skin | |
Stealing someone's self from him | |
We're in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. |
zuò qǔ : Fog | |
A threepiece suit on me, | |
A tutu on you. | |
In an empty airplane hangar | |
At a table for two. | |
A pregnant pause. | |
A thought exhaled. | |
In the jowls of the workweek | |
Spare me the details. | |
And if you ever did | |
Spy a giant squid | |
With your lazy eye | |
With its drooping lid | |
We' re in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine | |
Well, Vern sunburns himself | |
For to peel the old him off | |
To find the red him underneath | |
The redder him, more raw. | |
Scooping out his brains | |
With a rusted grapefruit spoon | |
Drinking his own urine | |
In the executive washroom. | |
And if you' ve ever been | |
An unconvincing spokesman in | |
A seminar and telling jokes | |
Naked and forgot your notes | |
We' re in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine. | |
But if you ever died | |
Or ever genuinely tried | |
Or if you ever were denied | |
Your relevance or sense of pride | |
If you sputtered and you stuttered | |
And you tied yourself in knots | |
And under your breath you muttered | |
Something someone else forgot | |
And if you ever have | |
Missed your flight to Leningrad | |
Running down some airport stairs | |
Semen running down your leg | |
We' re in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine | |
Well, who tells you to work? | |
" The devil." | |
Who tells you when you get a day off? | |
" The devil." | |
And who gives you your pay? | |
" The damn devil." | |
Aw, and who takes it away? | |
" The devil." | |
That pampered quarterback | |
Oh, he don' t know how to act | |
Oh, he don' t know how to throw | |
I want my ing money back | |
Oh, I want to think without | |
Hearing my mind' s mouth talk | |
Be neutered and lobotomized | |
And pushed out of a truck | |
And if you ever were | |
Somewhere where you never were | |
Inside someone else' s skin | |
Stealing someone' s self from him | |
We' re in this together | |
Son, your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. | |
Your beef is mine. |