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• Artiste: Joggers (The)
• Titre: Yawning Brahmins
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we all got paid but we were paid is such different ways a sheaf of arrows through our cold blood these robber barons with little hands that never meet we all ask with what we have some speak in climate, we move in weather that's moved in a little candor, all that ever does you in the ancient motions that turn a reflex vulgar do tell, do tell, the trials you passed, do tell, this pass, is coming at last do tell, us all, we're gonna last long a yawning brahmin, an ashtray-white canteen silent damage, to watch the ones you'll never see down the street, we rattle and wheeze just starving vagrants, we stumble on immaculate streets rattle and weave, strain our eyes if we please but only dumb luck turns up spare keys do tell, us all, we're gonna have a ball do tell, this pass, is coming, at last do tell, us all, we gonna last long do tell, us all, the trials you lost do tell, us all, we need to walk it off