"Gut Pageant"
(written by Kristin Hersh)
That fine fever brought us here
Lambasted eyeballs
When
we kiss the dirt the orchids laugh
What a gut pageant
We could play for hours
What a gut pageant
Meat
for the flowers
You break out of a paper bag
And wake up on the street
Just kidding
You don't
have to go
I asked him why the grass is blue
And stray boys don't go home
Why 4 a.m.'s so screwy
He
says: "sleep through it"
What a gut pageant
We could play for hours
What a gut pageant
Meat
for the flowers
Not too special, not too strange
Just the way I like 'em
You find an empty promise and stick by it
Not too pretty, not too sweet
Just the way
I like you
When you kiss the dirt the orchids laugh
Harder than me
Tell me another one
I could sit for hours
When anyone laughs I know I'm a coward
What a gut pageant
We
could play for hours
When we kiss the dirt the orchids
laugh
Harder than me
