Mr. Deadly

Randomly the radio that wanders through the stations like

a train

Flickers on the dashboard as the melody dissolves into

his brain

Hovering the kestral over chequered fields suspended in

the air

Settles on a movement and swoops down to find this time,

there's nothing there

And all who hear him say you must further gone then they

And all who hear him say he must be mad to be himself

around today

All my final children will be sticky little mushrooms in

a field

Harvesting your future just by sitting there whatever

will it yield

And all who hear him say you must be further gone then

they

And all who hear him say he must be mad to be himself

around today

Around today

Around today

Around today