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That fine fever brought us
here
Lambasted eyeballs
When we kiss the dirt the orchids laugh
What a gut pageant, we could play for hours
What a gut pageant, meat for the flowers
You break out of a paper bag, and wake up on the street
Just kidding
You don't have to go
I asked him why the grass is blue and stray boys don't go home
Why 4 a.m.'s so screwy
He says, "sleep through it"
What a gut pageant, we could play for hours
What a gut pageant, meat for the flowers
Not too special not too strange
Just the way I like 'em
You find and empty promise and stick by it
Not too pretty not too sweet
Just the way I like you
When you kiss the dirt the orchids laugh harder than me
Tell me another one
I could sit for hours
When anyone laughs I know I'm a coward
What a gut pageant, we could play for hours
When we kiss the dirt the orchids laugh harder than me
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