Lyrics to Give Me Back My Body
It always tears a part of me
Right here in the land of sweet liberty
So much inequality
Too many debutantes
And not enough escorts
Too many restaurants
Not enough food courts
Too many tenements
Not enough tree forts
Too many trenchcoats
Not enough short shorts
Too many Conchords
Not enough airports
Too many knives
Not enough forks
Too many bottles
And not enough corks
Well, hello there New York City
You always look so pretty
You can keep all of my senses
But you gotta give me back my body
Hey, New York City
Raise your right arm if you can hear me
You can keep all my money
But you gotta give me back my body
Yeah, too many Valiums
And not enough vitamins
Too much Cinnaburst
And not enough elements
Too many fuses
And not enough filaments
Too many whispers
And not enough testaments
And the prophet to my left
Forever holds his breath
Stays up on crystal meth
And he cranks out these sacred texts
And rubber checks
Too many sour grapes
And not enough red wine
Too many small falls
And not enough landslides
Too many upfronts
And not enough bloodlines
Too many Coronas
And not enough 'slice of limes'
Too much drama
And not enough Dramamine
Too many blue bloods
And not enough blue jeans
Too many nightmares
And not enough pipe dreams
Too many french fries
And not enough protein
Too many critics
And not enough participants
Too many rock journalists
And not enough insects
Too many rock journalists
And not enough insects
Too many rock journalists
And not enough garbage
Too many rock journalists...
Too much anonymous trash-talking
Not enough anonymous sex
Too many people signing up for the lifestyle
Not enough people losing their heads
Too much anonymous trash-talking
Not enough anonymous sex
Too many people signing up for the lifestyle
Not enough people losing their heads
Right here in the land of sweet liberty
So much inequality
Too many debutantes
And not enough escorts
Too many restaurants
Not enough food courts
Too many tenements
Not enough tree forts
Too many trenchcoats
Not enough short shorts
Too many Conchords
Not enough airports
Too many knives
Not enough forks
Too many bottles
And not enough corks
Well, hello there New York City
You always look so pretty
You can keep all of my senses
But you gotta give me back my body
Hey, New York City
Raise your right arm if you can hear me
You can keep all my money
But you gotta give me back my body
Yeah, too many Valiums
And not enough vitamins
Too much Cinnaburst
And not enough elements
Too many fuses
And not enough filaments
Too many whispers
And not enough testaments
And the prophet to my left
Forever holds his breath
Stays up on crystal meth
And he cranks out these sacred texts
And rubber checks
Too many sour grapes
And not enough red wine
Too many small falls
And not enough landslides
Too many upfronts
And not enough bloodlines
Too many Coronas
And not enough 'slice of limes'
Too much drama
And not enough Dramamine
Too many blue bloods
And not enough blue jeans
Too many nightmares
And not enough pipe dreams
Too many french fries
And not enough protein
Too many critics
And not enough participants
Too many rock journalists
And not enough insects
Too many rock journalists
And not enough insects
Too many rock journalists
And not enough garbage
Too many rock journalists...
Too much anonymous trash-talking
Not enough anonymous sex
Too many people signing up for the lifestyle
Not enough people losing their heads
Too much anonymous trash-talking
Not enough anonymous sex
Too many people signing up for the lifestyle
Not enough people losing their heads
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