Who's that scarey man? Who is that scarey man? (x4)
Do you remember the last time that you spoke?
If ideas were legal tender lots of people would be broke.
Words keep falling all around my ears:
They come thick and they come fast till all their meaning disappears.
Seems we could do most anything,
Like walk on water or grow wings with words.
Yes, but we go backwards, we go mad,
And lose what ideas we once had in words.
They're not making any sense
In the past or the future or the present tense:
Talk, talk, talk till you get incensed -
It's a waste of your intelligence.
Don't tell me that discourse is a gift from above.
Don't give me no lexicon, don't give me no love.
Don't give me no subtext, don't give me no seminaries.
I never thought you knew so many words.
Oh, all the hours I spent with you,
The night was turning blue with all those words.
The words of dead men that you learn in school
Are supposed to serve you right, yes, they're supposed to be your tools.
Don't give me no nonsense, don't give me no lip -
You left your tools out in the rain, boy, I can see the bastards drip.
Just look at little Edgar, he's pretty close to the floor,
Just watch: he looks on up, his mouth falls open, one.. two.. three.. four
All the things that he could do
In Guatemala or Peru in words.
Oh, I don't suppose he'll ever see
How close he came to killing me with words.
And the word I was looking for came
And it didn't really seem to mean what it did before. (x3)
Do you remember the last time that you spoke?
If ideas were legal tender lots of people would be broke.
Words keep falling all around my ears:
They come thick and they come fast till all their meaning disappears.
Seems we could do most anything,
Like walk on water or grow wings with words.
Yes, but we go backwards, we go mad,
And lose what ideas we once had in words.
They're not making any sense
In the past or the future or the present tense:
Talk, talk, talk till you get incensed -
It's a waste of your intelligence.
Don't tell me that discourse is a gift from above.
Don't give me no lexicon, don't give me no love.
Don't give me no subtext, don't give me no seminaries.
I never thought you knew so many words.
Oh, all the hours I spent with you,
The night was turning blue with all those words.
The words of dead men that you learn in school
Are supposed to serve you right, yes, they're supposed to be your tools.
Don't give me no nonsense, don't give me no lip -
You left your tools out in the rain, boy, I can see the bastards drip.
Just look at little Edgar, he's pretty close to the floor,
Just watch: he looks on up, his mouth falls open, one.. two.. three.. four
All the things that he could do
In Guatemala or Peru in words.
Oh, I don't suppose he'll ever see
How close he came to killing me with words.
And the word I was looking for came
And it didn't really seem to mean what it did before. (x3)
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