Tom: C
C G A E Fmaj7 C
C G A E Fmaj7 C
C G A E F C
lazy flies all hovering above
C G A E F C
the magistrate, he puts on his gloves
D7 G
and he looks to the clouds
F C
all pink and disheveled
B7 C
there must be some blueprints,
G F#
some creed of the devil
F C
inscribed in our minds
Am D
a hideous game
F Am
vanishes in thin air
Am D
the vanity of slaves
F Am
who wants to be there?
E F
to sweep the debris
F C
to harness dead-horses
D G
to ride in the sun
F C
a life of confessions
E F G#
written in the dust
out in the mangroves the mynah birds cry
in the shadows of sulphur the trawlers drift by
they're chewing dried meat house of disrepute
the dust of opiates and syphilis patients
on brochure vacations
fear has a glare that traps you
like searchlights
the puritans stare
their souls are fluoresecent
the skin of a robot
vibrates with pleasure
matrons and gigolos
carouse in the parlor
their hand-grenade eyes
invalid and blind
a hideous game
vanishes in thin air
the vanity of slaves
who wants to be there?
to sweep the debris
to harness dead-horses
to ride in the sun
a life of confessions
written in the dust
La la la la la la la etc.
end on C
