Beck Lyrics Ipsum

'cause it don't taste so good 'cause my neck is broken 'cause they drag us down into the ruins 'couldn't let myself to go chinatown late-night meals a letter being written on a torso a life lived under glass a mouthfull of rotting cavities all the riches and the ruins all the times in between and a rhinestone life and all the toilets are overflowing and i just started wanting to punch your face, and i never, never want it and i'm lowering all my disappointments and if i ask someone about you and if it's only me who's scared and let you go and my clothes are starting to shrink and noise that laughs falls off their and put 'em in clear plastic ziplock bags and the big radio sound is pumping up and down and the drugs won't kill your day job, honey and the grease was mighty thick and the guns of her mind, aim a line straight at mine and their faces jade the strain and you just sittin' there animals with bananas anything should make you happy.

Cause i like her like the world a perfect, stupid, cardboard reject a sight of perfect silence a trail of disasters alfonso giving me a backrub, 2pm laser vizzaginal rejuvenation all of my feelings and a worm of hope and he led twelve away and i made them join my game and i spent it to death and i stomped and i stormed and if you get to the point and shops full of cold cuts and candy and take them down and the courage was sublime, pantomime and the diesel burning oil in the campfire roach and the heat wave's calling your name and the women, all runnin' around and their eyes and their gasoline hormones and they were singing like this and we're haunted by our own minds and when our eyes did meet and you got the hotwax residues and you're taking a leak and your sister....debra at the great hair on her shoulders ay wey, qu.

'cause it don't taste so good 'cause you got a thing a bearskin rug, the tambourines a mouthfull of rotting cavities a perfunctory prescription a sick stolen gift a treasury you can't afford ain't no time wastin no time all around a water tank all the way, lord and blasting his tv back at me and chained to the walls and he picks up a magazine, turns on the tv and i am so downhearted and i noticed the crew and i will throw you rocks today and i'll do whatever i can. and i've been waiting for a year, a day and phone machines and a fax machine and put your skeletons in jail. and set up a whole new show and the rain's too plain to tell and their gasoline hormones and try to bang a flame out of the cinders you left behind and when i say and your lingo coined from the sacrament of a casino as i took a little nap, the cops picked up us both at the recreation center.