I Never Really Wanted To Be A

You've Got To Shake Your Fists At Lightning Now, You've Got To Roar Like Forest Fire You've Got To Spread Your Light Like Blazes All Across The Sky They're Going To Aim The Hoses On You, Show 'em You Won't Expire Not Till You Burn Up Every Passion, Not Even When You Die Come On Now, You've Got To Try, If You're Feeling Contempt, Well Then You Tell It If You're Tired Of The Silent Night, Jesus, Well Then You Yell It Condemned To Wires And Hammers, Strike Every Chord That You Feel That Broken Trees And Elephant Ivories Conceal

Give Me Spots On My Apples, But Leave Me The Birds And The Bees, Please.

You Have This Mounting Aggressive Ignorance With The Rabbit's Foot Of Their Particular Religion. You Don't Really Have Any Kind Of Spiritual Law, Just A Kind Of A Rabid Mental Illness. The Songs Are A Little Slice Of Life.

You Feed It All Your Woes, The Ghostly Garden Grows.

Some Get The Gravy, Some Get The Gristle.