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• Artiste: Rasputina
• Titre: The Mayor
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Oh, it's scrambled eggs what he says. He accuses me of treachery. Got the nine lies, got the wide eyes, Got a failing grade in chemistry. If you count back to the balcony When all we saw was the mystery. Of a blonde haired boy brought his mother joy, With his pedigree and family tree. Oh, lay it all out on a wicker couch. That you wove in the loony bin. Cut it out, it's a second round bout. Not the way of a gentleman. Give it up, get a job, Take a pill and leave me be. He's got a synapse lapse he don't think he has, But it's been proven empirically. Oh, I'm quite tired of this lunatic. Why must we suffer cuz the mayor's sick? He say: "All abandon from this sinking ship". Then he's off on another trip. He don't care about environment. He has made this a shitty place. My interest rate shrinks at a rapid pace Compounded daily on my worried face. "If they take something precious from me, I take something precious from them." Oh now he's losing his constituency. We thought, "Oh, this could never happen again." If I take something precious from him, He try to take something from me. There's a battle in his head that he cannot win. There's a man he could never be. Oh no. Way to go. He's the Mayor.