|
you turn the screws |
|
you tear down the bridge |
|
flimsy as it is, it's business like |
|
you shake my hand |
|
you break up the band |
|
flimsy as it is, it's open-mic punk rock |
|
red white and blue |
|
you twist the knife then go home to kiss your wife |
|
a bigger better slice is what you'd like |
|
you kick the sand, you get the upper hand |
|
you sell it to japan |
|
it's natural punk rock |
|
red white and blue |
|
you turn the screws |
|
it's what you choose to do |
|
you think that i |
|
must turn them too |
|
you think that i must be so satisfied |
|
i stay inside |
|
i wonder why |
|
and the cement-mixer gets it all ready |
|
one good turn at a time |
|
they're pouring it slowly and steady |
|
you're showing me where i can sign |
|
what i can expect to find |
|
but how can you say you'll be happy |
|
when you turn the screws |
|
you turn the screws |
|
it's what you choose to do |
|
you turn the screws |
|
it's what you choose to do |
|
you think i must turn them, too |
|
you turn the screws |
|
you tear down the bridge |
|
flimsy as it is, it's business like |
|
flimsy as it is, it's open-mic punk rock |
|
red white and blue |
|
you turn the screws |
