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letra de raffle ticket blues - busdriver & radioinactive with daedelus

[hook: radioinactive] x 2
happy b-day
here’s a candle
a ginger beer and a new pair of sandals
i like to travel and i like my eggs scrambled
smoking hash with a man with broken legs in istanbul

i’d like to start by selling raffle tickets
if you don’t win
it’s cause of natural physics
if you’re not a winner
and you don’t have a chin
grow a goatee and throw a javelin
learn the ancient language of the hopi and build yourself a teepee
here’s a million squeegees
i’ll start myself a company
all these peasants hugging me cause they know i’m from the agency
they’ll invite me in for cake and tea and crackers and some bacon cheese
i like these people not cause they like me
i’m a broken radio with cable tv
like asking couples how long they’ve been together
or shooting basketb-lls in really windy weather
you tickle vegan women with a chicken feather
and plus that whip is leather
if you miss each other
kiss and pinky swear and wear hip-huggers
embarr-ssed lovers hiding their soiled covers from their mothers and hundreds of others who’ve been punished and suffered and can’t remember why we bought this blender
it’s for your aunt’s birthday on the first day of octember

this could be the end of a relationship
you’ve been nominated to sign and date this cuban affidavit
you could have been -ss-ssinated judging by the looks on the faces of the little wooden friends of the governor from halifax
hiding in a cadillac wearing butchers’ apr-ns when your keeping the books of satan
when your cooking a nation in a microwave trick that hookers are chasing
you have my honest abraham in the promised land lieutenant
a minivan will be waiting for you with a cajun driver in it
ferdinand never hated on you
but even if he did
there’s a reason that you lived this long or even longer
when your breathing’s been conquered and you die in a duel to the death with a tool in your chest by the hand of a heathen from yonkers
now you’re lying under flying saucers
frying live lobsters for a dying doctor who’s dying wish is buy my tractor and eat a flying fish… is that guy an actor? and live happily ever after hours
during office hours he likes to be drinking coffee and observing topless showers
plaster cowards using my super powers and a crossbow to shoot plastic flowers into greener pastures
who’s fiending to capture a c0kehead
who’s cleaning up faster than a moped
in morse code

happy b-day
here’s a candle
a ginger beer and a new pair of sandals
i like to travel and i like my eggs scrambled
smoking hash with a man with broken legs in istanbul

- busdriver radioinactive with daedelus

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