Roman Guitars

The pigs all stormed the Bennigan's And the band played Touch My Stuff again We were living up in Michigan back then The only cats we ever met Were mangy, lame and dripping wet These were not the kinds of cats you pet I bet when all the lights come up This club is covered up in cups Counting cash and coins and gushing blood The only songs this singer sings Are songs about his victim things And no one ever loved him like you did And then he points at every kid Some old man in the Vikings van Drinks Coppola straight from the can He keeps on misunderstanding what the plan is: "Once you're stationed in the back Kick in the doors, surprise attack Close your eyes and shoot into the shack" All your tiny particles Add up to something beautiful All these little building blocks Created something high and hot All your little sleight of hand Means nothing to the science man Who locked us in the hospital And watches through the chemicals Deep blue truths and glassy eyes Little looks that pulverize And the band slides into "Where Are You Tonight" The only songs this singer sings Are songs about his victim things And no one ever loved him like you do And now he's pointing right at you Cause all your little molecules Add up to something drunk and cute Computers, kits[?] and chemicals The flowers and the fools Little streets and cream of wheat America runs on blistered feet Coffee cups and doughnut shops Depression and defeat And all your little molecules And all your little molecules Add up to something beautiful All your little molecules Add up to something beautiful Add up to something beautiful Like flowers and the fruits All your little molecules Add up to something beautiful