I Miss the Zoo Lyrics

Song	I Miss the Zoo
Artist	Joseph Arthur
Album	The Ballad of Boogie Christ
Download	Image LRC TXT

	I miss the drunk, I miss the fiend
	I miss the simplicity of addiction and the scene
	I miss wandering aimlessly in half dead sewers
	With rats for eyes chewing on forgiveness and the will to apologize
	I miss the return of no return as I burn in avalanches of white snow and yellow cocaine
	I miss talking to brick walls while following the grain
	And human dolls as I plagiarize myself like a dummy
	Stuffed with counterfeit money for Cairo and black honey
	I miss illusions begging to be chased
	Even as they disappear into me erased
	Until there is no one or nothing but the chase
	And a powdery ghost with no face or faith
	And the woman of my dreams disappearing without grace
	Rob from always on the run is so bad and copy paste is a sin
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss evolving into a cloud of blue marijuana
	Blown from the lips of hookers and pimps
	As they shake each other down in alleys for the dammed but mighty
	With no one but the weak around and the beautiful unsightly
	I miss numb Neanderthals marching in rows of living dead
	From my wisdom teeth to Spain and back again in my head
	I miss salvation in syringes and angels of mercy
	In blooms of smoke numbing rain which drinks when thirsty
	I miss glasses full of spirits who without tongues speak to me in Napoleon's wild nights
	I miss staying up for days and becoming a psychic pretzel flying kites
	Chewed on by a Zulu heading with toads to Mars
	A mysterious prison and one without bars
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss waking in the arms of strangers like puppies
	Just born in the pound to a dead mother with eyes sealed shut
	Looking for a tit to suck and other dangers
	When the night before laughter was the only pursuit
	Even as knives carved up our backs and demons sat like Buddhas eating fruit
	Meditating on hate forever in our minds
	I miss exposing even my bones and the need that rewinds
	Even my burning home, even my gutted inner child
	Even my dead grandfather beneath the ground that’s wild
	Even my criminal family, even my weedwacker thoughts
	Whipping a thin plastic string to cut the ears of others as I sing
	I miss van Gogh’s revenge, I miss his nightly binge
	I miss spiders surrounding my bed and lifting me as if an effigy
	Or a Dead King or a prophet of doom
	A Jesus for the apocalypse wearing dirt like perfume
	Or a mother for Satan or a ghost for all the children of abuse
	And taking me into the fire watching me burn like a goose
	As they sing in spider voices
	There goes creation, there goes the moon
	There goes the butterfly wanting a cocoon
	I miss being a bloom and a goon
	Waking up too soon, in the afternoon
	A doctor of regret
	Hanging onto guitar strings in tune
	And hanging by a belt wrapped around some pipe to nowhere and felt
	My lips too wrapped around what appears to be stained glass
	As religious figures dress like rocks with class
	Burn into gas to the center of my brain
	The euphoria of dying and being born all at once
	While wearing the hat that reads 'dunce'
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo

	I miss the drunk, I miss the fiend
	I miss the simplicity of addiction and the scene
	I miss wandering aimlessly in half dead sewers
	With rats for eyes chewing on forgiveness and the will to apologize
	I miss the return of no return as I burn in avalanches of white snow and yellow cocaine
	I miss talking to brick walls while following the grain
	And human dolls as I plagiarize myself like a dummy
	Stuffed with counterfeit money for Cairo and black honey
	I miss illusions begging to be chased
	Even as they disappear into me erased
	Until there is no one or nothing but the chase
	And a powdery ghost with no face or faith
	And the woman of my dreams disappearing without grace
	Rob from always on the run is so bad and copy paste is a sin
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss evolving into a cloud of blue marijuana
	Blown from the lips of hookers and pimps
	As they shake each other down in alleys for the dammed but mighty
	With no one but the weak around and the beautiful unsightly
	I miss numb Neanderthals marching in rows of living dead
	From my wisdom teeth to Spain and back again in my head
	I miss salvation in syringes and angels of mercy
	In blooms of smoke numbing rain which drinks when thirsty
	I miss glasses full of spirits who without tongues speak to me in Napoleon' s wild nights
	I miss staying up for days and becoming a psychic pretzel flying kites
	Chewed on by a Zulu heading with toads to Mars
	A mysterious prison and one without bars
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss waking in the arms of strangers like puppies
	Just born in the pound to a dead mother with eyes sealed shut
	Looking for a tit to suck and other dangers
	When the night before laughter was the only pursuit
	Even as knives carved up our backs and demons sat like Buddhas eating fruit
	Meditating on hate forever in our minds
	I miss exposing even my bones and the need that rewinds
	Even my burning home, even my gutted inner child
	Even my dead grandfather beneath the ground that' s wild
	Even my criminal family, even my weedwacker thoughts
	Whipping a thin plastic string to cut the ears of others as I sing
	I miss van Gogh' s revenge, I miss his nightly binge
	I miss spiders surrounding my bed and lifting me as if an effigy
	Or a Dead King or a prophet of doom
	A Jesus for the apocalypse wearing dirt like perfume
	Or a mother for Satan or a ghost for all the children of abuse
	And taking me into the fire watching me burn like a goose
	As they sing in spider voices
	There goes creation, there goes the moon
	There goes the butterfly wanting a cocoon
	I miss being a bloom and a goon
	Waking up too soon, in the afternoon
	A doctor of regret
	Hanging onto guitar strings in tune
	And hanging by a belt wrapped around some pipe to nowhere and felt
	My lips too wrapped around what appears to be stained glass
	As religious figures dress like rocks with class
	Burn into gas to the center of my brain
	The euphoria of dying and being born all at once
	While wearing the hat that reads ' dunce'
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo

	I miss the drunk, I miss the fiend
	I miss the simplicity of addiction and the scene
	I miss wandering aimlessly in half dead sewers
	With rats for eyes chewing on forgiveness and the will to apologize
	I miss the return of no return as I burn in avalanches of white snow and yellow cocaine
	I miss talking to brick walls while following the grain
	And human dolls as I plagiarize myself like a dummy
	Stuffed with counterfeit money for Cairo and black honey
	I miss illusions begging to be chased
	Even as they disappear into me erased
	Until there is no one or nothing but the chase
	And a powdery ghost with no face or faith
	And the woman of my dreams disappearing without grace
	Rob from always on the run is so bad and copy paste is a sin
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss evolving into a cloud of blue marijuana
	Blown from the lips of hookers and pimps
	As they shake each other down in alleys for the dammed but mighty
	With no one but the weak around and the beautiful unsightly
	I miss numb Neanderthals marching in rows of living dead
	From my wisdom teeth to Spain and back again in my head
	I miss salvation in syringes and angels of mercy
	In blooms of smoke numbing rain which drinks when thirsty
	I miss glasses full of spirits who without tongues speak to me in Napoleon' s wild nights
	I miss staying up for days and becoming a psychic pretzel flying kites
	Chewed on by a Zulu heading with toads to Mars
	A mysterious prison and one without bars
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I miss waking in the arms of strangers like puppies
	Just born in the pound to a dead mother with eyes sealed shut
	Looking for a tit to suck and other dangers
	When the night before laughter was the only pursuit
	Even as knives carved up our backs and demons sat like Buddhas eating fruit
	Meditating on hate forever in our minds
	I miss exposing even my bones and the need that rewinds
	Even my burning home, even my gutted inner child
	Even my dead grandfather beneath the ground that' s wild
	Even my criminal family, even my weedwacker thoughts
	Whipping a thin plastic string to cut the ears of others as I sing
	I miss van Gogh' s revenge, I miss his nightly binge
	I miss spiders surrounding my bed and lifting me as if an effigy
	Or a Dead King or a prophet of doom
	A Jesus for the apocalypse wearing dirt like perfume
	Or a mother for Satan or a ghost for all the children of abuse
	And taking me into the fire watching me burn like a goose
	As they sing in spider voices
	There goes creation, there goes the moon
	There goes the butterfly wanting a cocoon
	I miss being a bloom and a goon
	Waking up too soon, in the afternoon
	A doctor of regret
	Hanging onto guitar strings in tune
	And hanging by a belt wrapped around some pipe to nowhere and felt
	My lips too wrapped around what appears to be stained glass
	As religious figures dress like rocks with class
	Burn into gas to the center of my brain
	The euphoria of dying and being born all at once
	While wearing the hat that reads ' dunce'
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo
	I Miss The Zoo

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