This is m y forty fifth depressing tune.
They're looking for money as they clean my art istic womb.
And when I give b irth to the child I must ta ke to flight
'Cause the black in our poc ket won't let us f ight a proper fight.
So hey b aby can you shed some light on the problem ma ybe?
'Cause we're all t ired and we'd like to know
If we should p ack our t ents shut do wn the show.
Yes we should like to s ee a b urning bush-type s ign.
But a nyth ing would be f ine.
We're all to ld to dance but we never pic ked the tune.
Hanging like p uppets they feed us from b ent steel spoons.
But we're sealing our l ips for the someday when the ne edle and the vinyl play
All the songs of the p ain, songs that exp lain all our circles and s trains.
So hey b aby, can you shed some light on the problem ma ybe?
'Cause we're all cr ying and we'd l ike to kn ow
If w e should p ack our t ents shut d own the show.
Yes we should like to s ee a b urning b ush-type s ign.
But a nyth ing would be f ine.
Instrumental :
We're all dy ing and we'd l ike to kn ow
If we should pa ck our te nts, shut do wn the show.
Yes, we should like to s ee a b urning b ush-type si gn
"And, we should l ike to see y ou pack your t ents, shut do wn your show."
And, we should like to s ee a b urning b ush-type s ign
But a nyth ing would be f ine. Oh, anyth ing would be f ine.
C#(dim) : X4X020