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Severed Heads Bad Mood Guy Jetlag Rode in the grip of an angel Hands tied in cords of gold We'd made a deal, I went astray Now I'm falling with hell to pay Rode in the grip of an angel Occupied with thoughts of gold I learned a dance on the head of a pin It didn't save me from eternal sin C Now I'm learning to fly by myself Stealing my grain from the mouths of birds Touch ground for an occasional birdbath Crap on the heads of passers-by "Fairy Land doesn't last forever. Making fun of my moping around and being a pain in the arse, etc., etc. Another one of these flying songs. We've actually dropped the lyrics on later versions. They're a bit obvious, y'know." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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