A Song and a Sunday Afternoon

You’re dead in a frying pan.

I hope this is the way we all died.

It’s efficient as hell. Put your head to the wall,

And if you turn to me love,

Then maybe I can take the wheel.

Jump to the trees.

You are Isis for the rest of this song.

[Instrumental. ]

God speed, all the beggars are dumb

Heading in to the fun.

Looking in on the good life,

Maybe this is all we will find: flaming fields.

Are you too dumb to reply?

Dance for the rest of your life to red wine.

[ Instrumental.]