dumptruck þarký sözü

new york city soothing my itchy itchy month of may
time has passed for ms. onassis, decay on display

i don´t want to go down
i don´t want to go down
i don´t want to go down - like she did

and i can´t understand why something
good´s got to die before we miss it

mumbled talk through pigeon park
and hastings is wasting away
religiously they seem to sin
buy, sell or trade for amens

i just don´t want to feel
i just don´t want to feel
i just don´t want to feel - like they feel

hollow body for sound, trade a coat for a gown

way up in my arms you know
i love you just a little bit more

raisin´ nose down to chin
smoke after smoke they all trickle in
anything, for anything, and ending up with nothing

simple pimpled young man
sores all over his hands
he´s sleeping, not so silently

i´ll mop the floors for you all
i´m a fly on the wall
really big and listening

burned a hand of a friend of mine
and bub i know that you could fly a mile high
you told me nothing´s ever gonna come between
nothing´s ever gonna come between
nothing´s ever gonna come between

my dumptruck and me