Bell X1 - One Stringed Harp lyrics
[Bell X1 - One Stringed Harp lyrics]
A safe pair of hands a reason to stand
Some guns to stick to rational demands
Come on now ladies
They won't fertilise themselves
Get into the ball game
Let's clear those shelves
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like Wily Coyote
As if the fall wasn't enough
Those bastards from Acme
They got more nasty stuff
Salt in my wounds sticking in the boot
We're all bulimic
But keep forgetting to puke
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Chalk it up, and write it down
The hand of history is clawing at my back
The Iron Fist of she cuping at my sack
Grip is tightening my voice is heightening
This orange alert is beginning to crack
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Chalk it up, and write it down
Some guns to stick to rational demands
Come on now ladies
They won't fertilise themselves
Get into the ball game
Let's clear those shelves
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like Wily Coyote
As if the fall wasn't enough
Those bastards from Acme
They got more nasty stuff
Salt in my wounds sticking in the boot
We're all bulimic
But keep forgetting to puke
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Chalk it up, and write it down
The hand of history is clawing at my back
The Iron Fist of she cuping at my sack
Grip is tightening my voice is heightening
This orange alert is beginning to crack
That's what I read in that Sunday magazine
The anvil is falling, falling on your head
You're just picking your knickers
From your arse
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Like you're playing a one stringed harp
Chalk it up, and write it down