beat upon a broken guitar
In all the streets,
they reek of tropical charms
The embassies lie in hideous shards
Where tourists snore in the cave
When they dance
In a raptorial blaze
You wear a mask
An equatorial gaze
Into the past
A colonial maze
Where there's no more confetti
to throw
You don't know what
to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you
couldn't sell
Misery waits in the cold palace
To be evicted
You're out of luck,
you're singing funeral song
s to the studs
They're anabolic and gross,
they seem to strive
And they're millennial flies,
still they fall down and deflate
You wouldn't know what
to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you could n't save
Misery waits in fake hotels
To be evicted
Oh, and now you've had your fun
Under an air -conditioned sun
It's burning to your eyes,
leaves you playing left behind
I'll see them rise and fall,
into the jaws of a pestilent love
You don't know what to say to yourself,
love is a poverty you couldn't save
Misery wakes and they call us to be a victim
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
and now you've had your fun
Under an air -conditioned sun
Oh, oh, now you've had your fun
Under an air -conditioned sun
Oh, oh, oh, and now you've
had your fun
Under an air -conditioned sun
Thank you for watching.