Lyrics:
you don't We're supersonic quadrophonic living on the edge We're the old we're the old So we got nothing to loose Ain't got nothing to win We can play
a quadrophonic sound And coca cola eyes Wax candle shins And crisco flavored thighs Stained glass shoe shine And altercations in your mind Your sleeping in
writing copies, writing my copies Down the steps the piano bench cracks The microphone reacts Quadrophonic phonograph Hear the record scratch Oh you’re
desperately With quadrophonic sound, and a dying battery I fight to be first chair so stupidly I'm an outcast to the symphony and made to be alone Yet the need
CRUST IT ALL COMES MELTING DOWN BURNING OUT REALMS OF FREAK CYANIDE TRIPS AND QUICKSAND CORPSES AND TOMBSTONES SPEAK QUADROPHONIC MIND STAB DAZE DIGGING
Strangers & brothers & beggars & sisters, Hipsters, Quipsters, Quadrophonic tricksters They don't care about your hair, the issue is dead, over & out.
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