Primus - Pressman (Live at Berkeley Square) lyrics
[Primus - Pressman Live at Berkeley Square lyrics]
By the light of lamp, I sit to type
My notes on tab at my side
I don't see the sun much these days
A fluorescent tan covers my hide
How much impact shall I have this time?
My goal today is to reach the deadline
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I report the facts, give them to me, please
Ham and egg salad on white bread
Keeps me company on nights like this
A pack of mentholated cigarettes
Keep my air nice and thick
When I write
Words flow like coins from a candy box
Get out of my way, I've got something to say
The pulse is beating louder now
The pulse is beating louder now
The cramps in my hands grow
More intense with each tik, tik
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys
My social life is at an end
So it seems to be
Why don't I just trample on your lawn today?
I'll take the skies of blue and turn
Them in, into the skies of grey, boy
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I am the pressman, acknowledge me
Mother always told me
"Never stray too far from home"
The little lady said, "Boy, you
Never have to be alone, because
You build with fountain pen
You create the memory stain
You are the pressman, stand up straight, boy"
My notes on tab at my side
I don't see the sun much these days
A fluorescent tan covers my hide
How much impact shall I have this time?
My goal today is to reach the deadline
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I report the facts, give them to me, please
Ham and egg salad on white bread
Keeps me company on nights like this
A pack of mentholated cigarettes
Keep my air nice and thick
When I write
Words flow like coins from a candy box
Get out of my way, I've got something to say
The pulse is beating louder now
The pulse is beating louder now
The cramps in my hands grow
More intense with each tik, tik
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys
My social life is at an end
So it seems to be
Why don't I just trample on your lawn today?
I'll take the skies of blue and turn
Them in, into the skies of grey, boy
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I am the pressman, acknowledge me
Mother always told me
"Never stray too far from home"
The little lady said, "Boy, you
Never have to be alone, because
You build with fountain pen
You create the memory stain
You are the pressman, stand up straight, boy"