'trys no place for me boss man let me be Minds inside are goin' Muscle 'n bone are showin'' One thing sure am knowin' Get a fire goin' factory's no
번역: 선장 Beefheart. 플라스틱 공장.
fac'trys no place for me boss man let me be Minds inside are goin' Muscle 'n bone are showin'' One thing sure am knowin' Get a fire goin' factory's
Seems that I had just to stay The birds have flown, the sky's turned gray The bees have ruffled by the flowers Plastic plants that never die and I Hope
in the sun Back in the litter, the morning never comes You got no reaction, knocking on my door You had no attraction for anyone at all The day goes at the factory
Butcher the paper, a ravenous pen Carving out trees and scoring skin Animals too placed in plastic cages Carted around these filthy pages I will draw
buy ourselves some heaven on earth we sell our souls, sell our souls for big wedge are we selling out tomorrow for today? A surgeon checks your plastic
curbcrawling west german autobahns Trying to pick up a war They're going to even the score Oh... I can't take any more I see black flags on factories
about integrity When money can buy you decency Don't tell me your life sucks You pay five bucks For a man who wants to mop the floor in your factory
me sick. Stealin' machines from the factories. Drinkin' water out of the bowl. "Ode to my lawnchair" to ease the pain. Stop me when I'm rockin' to a plastic
was falling through a hole in the ozone layer When you slurp your slurpie in a dixie cup Always pick every piece of litter up Recycle cans, paper and plastic
I was falling through a hole in the ozone layer When you slurp your slurpie in a dixie cup Always pick every piece of litter up Recycle cans, paper and plastic
I'm a scary gargoyle on a tower That you made with plastic power Your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away When the paralytic dreams that we all
Love comes to town on a blue jeaned leg In a pick up truck and a plastic crate It's an act of God hits you in the face Stands you on your head, puts you
Plastic black frame glasses And her hair back in a bun From 9 to 5 she looks just like A school librarian But Mister come this Friday When she's punchin
Behind my doorsteps a lie behind a window a sightless mind behind a dreamscape a lie behind a factory's wall a worn out child so dream on drown the grasp
autobahns Trying to pick up a war They're going to even the score Oh... I can't take any more I see black flags on factories Soup ladies poised on the
say is nothing at all And all I want you to do is stare at the wall I love your plastic hair and your plastic eyes Marvel at your plastic breats and your plastic
