Song parody of
Spy Thriller Disco Scene (feat. Foreign Telegram) [2022 remastered]
by Ken Kurita
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Counting leaves fall in the plaza
We are circling talking nowhere
Between Bedouin chants and Krishna drums
Your words are walking out of our lives
These nights of vigil, of sleeping against doors
In another city full of the walking dead
As if I'm falling and I can't awake
I see you found us another intrigue
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
I can see the salt flats glittering in the rain
I can see the graffiti marring the Wailing Wall
The red in the sky that lights up the desert
The dead factories rusting in the retrofit neon
Then back again at your doorsteps
Where I fear myself the most
Your deprecated politeness
And my tired courtesies
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
The mangled web of mysteries withstanding
Standing at the threshold of who we are
Let's disregard the religion of youth
Drop out of this irony and nostalgia
Wear our worst fears on our faces
Paint our skins a new color
Let's go out into the night
Let's go out tonight
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
Counting leaves fall in the plaza
We are circling talking nowhere
Between Bedouin chants and Krishna drums
Your words are walking out of our lives
These nights of vigil, of sleeping against doors
In another city full of the walking dead
As if I'm falling and I can't awake
I see you found us another intrigue
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
I can see the salt flats glittering in the rain
I can see the graffiti marring the Wailing Wall
The red in the sky that lights up the desert
The dead factories rusting in the retrofit neon
Then back again at your doorsteps
Where I fear myself the most
Your deprecated politeness
And my tired courtesies
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
The mangled web of mysteries withstanding
Standing at the threshold of who we are
Let's disregard the religion of youth
Drop out of this irony and nostalgia
Wear our worst fears on our faces
Paint our skins a new color
Let's go out into the night
Let's go out tonight
What now and how many times must we
Play through the same old argument?
Once again, we left the door ajar
So gouge another piece of what's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
What's left of me
