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letra de yardsale capital of the world - the pseudonyms

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verse:
barreling down guadalupe
in an eighties vw bus
102 degrees in the afternoon
pumping out audiosilk
on the cassette-player

chorus:
the asphalt is dancing
& melting into the sky
my baby is sweating & smiling
wrenching the steering-wheel
w/her wiry hands, while
she stains the road at
forty-miles-an-hour

middle eight:
my eyes are open
for curbside-treasures
but all i can find is
consumer-trash
gutters fill w/car-wash water
& the sky slowly turns
smog-grey & dirty-blue

refrain:
every sat-rday
the nickel-&-dime hounds
empty out their garages
& sit around in
cut-offs & sundresses
bartering over pennies
as the heat becomes weary
bridge:
they will retire into their televisions
answer their telephones
& call it a day
but first, they look to sell me
the head of a babydoll
& their dead grandmother’s
medicine-cabinet

coda:
the head of a babydoll
& their dead grandmother’s
medicine-cabinet
the head of a babydoll
& their dead grandmother’s
medicine-cabinet
the head of a babydoll
& their dead grandmother’s
medicine-cabinet
the head of a babydoll
& their dead grandmother’s
medicine-cabinet

- the pseudonyms

letras aleatórias

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