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smiled
Everyone fought for dimes
Newspapers screamed for blood
It was the best of times

Every place around the world it seemed the same
Can't hear
despise and I deplore and detest
The tabloids and newspapers better known as the press
And so much propaganda that it leads to distress
Magic Johnson,
the revolution's near,

But to me it seems quite clear
That's it's all just a little bit of history repeating.
The newspapers shout a new style is growing,
But it
the Super-Constellation all the way from Rimini
And feasted them on fish and chips from a newspaper facsimile
Now dead Italian tourist bodies litter up the Broadway
Some
the newspaper shouts ring to the boots of roustabouts
But you`re never in any doubt, there`s something happening somewhere

You chase down the road `til your
Verse 1:
Life is too short but now it's kind of funky
I make the beats for me and my homies
Newspaper reporters and others always ask me
Why I'm
the revolution's near
But to me it seems quite clear
That it's all just a little bit of history repeating

The newspaper shouts a new style is growing
But it
His eyes are closed his face pale asleep
On the ground a newspaper reads
The blood has spilled again
And you just dream my yellowman

Yellowman
the revolution's near,

But to me it seems quite clear
That's it's all just a little bit of history repeating.
The newspapers shout a new style is growing,
But it
family secrets out to
Flunkey's and castrato walkers
See that girl, watch that scene
Digging the dancing queen

Two newspaper editors like playground
Hail to the taxis
They go where I go
Farewell the newspapers that know more than I know
Flung under a street-lamp still burning at dawn
I'm in
everyone else
Well the newspaper barons
Are the scum of the lowest degree
And they prey on everybody
They prey on you and me

I'm singing Jazz Blues
your tongue trips
Deep dark, deep dark, truthful mirror
Deep dark, deep dark, truthful mirror

Now the flagstone streets where the newspaper shouts
leavin' a trailer
On the rural route
Just walkin' home alone
On the rural route
Newspaper prints her fifth grade picture
From the rural route
Rural
know much of nothing

Even if one of them was to read the newspaper
Cover to cover
That ain't what's going on
Journalism's dead and gone

Frail grasp
Spilling family secrets out to flunkies and castrato walkers
See that girl,
Watch that scene
Digging the "Dancing Queen"

Two newspaper editors like
Life is too short but now it's kind of funky
I make the beats for me and my homies
Newspaper reporters and others always ask me
Why I'm X-rated
an epic film
An' Ronnie the popular said, "It was a communist plot"
Oh

Oh, the newspaper came
And made Jody a national hero
Walter and Eric said
I get up every morning, drink coffee alone
My house it's too quiet, I'm the only one home
I let the newspapers pile up at the door
I can't be
Lather was thirty years old today,
They took away all of his toys.
His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,
About his old friends who'd stopped
your tongue trips
Deep dark, deep dark truthful mirror
Deep dark, deep dark truthful mirror

Now the flagstone streets where the newspaper shouts
Ring
the cows're in the corn
And I'm here a wishing I'd never been born
The newspaper said bout the world's goin' wrong
Ain't worried bout the world cause baby is
the newspapers
Every day for naught on a year
They say we got tangled in a love triangle
A fatal game of truth or dare

But the truth remains a mystery
Her world collapsed early Sunday morning
She got up from the kitchen table
Folded the newspaper and silenced the radio
Those creatures jumped

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