The Country Child Lyrics

All the actors say the streets are bathed in fire
All the action happens in the mouth of a bourboned liar
We're gonna riot on the streets today!
Smash an apple on the face of the state:
Fundamentally opposed to the cut of your clothes
Put your mouth in the sky and push it to edge of flight.
Autumn's faction bursts into the Hyatt and demands a sum:
The golden statue puzzles and attempts one awkward pun:
Feed a fever as the five fevers rage
Feed a fever and paginate your page!
Fundamentally opposed to the cost of your coal
Shopkeeper keeps a bowl and he spits his mouth's full
In spite of the winds and the customs of pimps:
The moon sheds its rise! The moon sheds its rise!
The country child cullllllled an abundance of hay:
And I want his uncle's gold: I want it today!
I said it! I said it! I said it! Four fingered-waif's got to stop!
Twelve ragged fingers pointing out at one!
You stick a rose in the golden sand... You stick a rose in the golden sun...
One writer is short of his daisies...

[from liner notes]