|
From the pills for the whispering |
|
Even children know you are |
|
sickened by your own protest |
|
and you make sure it will pass |
|
And you made it your business |
|
to fish the tumor out |
|
so you take and shake it, shake it |
|
out of the ones you are |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |
|
You bottled divinity |
|
for the thimble to drown in |
|
It brightens the children's faces |
|
when you water your old man |
|
a sinner at gun point |
|
you keep your monkey fed |
|
and he takes and shake it, shake it |
|
out of the ones he hurt |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |
|
You bottled divinity |
|
for the thimble to drown in |
|
It brightens the children's faces |
|
when you water the old man |
|
a sinner at gun point |
|
you keep your monkey fed |
|
and he'll take and shake it, shake it |
|
out of the ones you are |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |
|
When the medicine you fancy has all run out |
|
all good junkies go to heaven |