Beck Lyrics Ipsum

'cause he's lookin in the phonebook for your number and your name 'cause you got something that i just got to get with a diamond in the sleaze a state i dearly love accusations, suspects named aching in their slavery smoke ah yeah, weed-whack that thing all the jewels in heaven and a backstage pass and gimme some weight-loss pills and he knows just how to flaunt it and he looks to the clouds, all pink and disheveled and his eyes are goin' blind and his hair is turnin' white and i don't want to be funny and it better be long as the troubles in my head and paste it up into the sky and set up a whole new show and the eyes goin' blind and your hair is turnin' white and the love that is breathin' and the roof is falling down on my brain and the trashbags are your kids and there must have been some beer and you stare into space trying to discern what to say now at the theater, i did meet her.

. Ah all i need is all i need is two white horses in a line taking all of my feelings and he's youthless and pretending with his bare hands holding nothing and i like pianos in the evening sun and i'm tryin' not to look at satan making love to a dishrag and run-on sentences and she got's the soul and there must have been some catfish and you...uh, there's mascara bleeding out of your eyes apocalyptic nostalgia tokens as his wife handed him a drink at least one half of the double life you lead..

'cause he's lookin in the phonebook for your number and your name 'cause only you got a thing a sparkle in the night a zoo for humans ain't it hard, ain't it hard all dressed in rag and bones all the battlements are empty all the damage felt and a man standing on a window and all that it feeds and dollar bills pasted onto their faces and everywhere around us and he's talking to me and i don't want to be funny and i tell how the people and if it ain't your time to go and it's getting down to the wire and put it out into the sun and run-on sentences and she's the kickin' the shit and the girls don't talk when i'm around and the guns of her mind, aim a line straight at mine and the kids drinkin' in the park and the time is runnin low and there's cherries and there's potato chips another misspent night armor and shield as he pulled out an uzi we turned and hauled ass as his wife handed him a drink.