Lyrics

My litlle velcro twineis in a state were the cars don't drive And the people stare at number five in gold Didn't I tell you you'ld be happy Didn't I tell you it's a sell-out Even your mother will be proud My little sense of time Is big enough to count the seconds Between a fine toast and a toast that's made to burn Don't this lack of color suit me Or shall I chase another greyhound Bark my day All of my wheels are turning Both of my hands are burning Follow the sons of grey Find me a cloud that's yurning Find me a sheep that's kerning Find me the sons of grey Through windows we gaze at concrete that plays Songs of grey the bricks are in place My spoon's on a tray songs of grey Crossfading the goat that sleeps in my throat Songs of grey emergency rhymes To polish the chymes songs of grey