Holiday House

His spells weren't casting and the bait looked mighty friendly

And he understood he wouldn't feel a thing

And a fountain went running through the fog filled surrender

And his mind went dingaling

And his pride never vanished it just got hidden under layers

Of congeniality and leather smiles

While he was burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

While he was scooping out Godzilla's guts and lacquering up the podium

He felt the cherub nugget of his pride

He spun himself a hula dream from every lie he heard her spit out

Everybody's somebody inside

But who the hell was the gay guy with the shells down in his pocket

And his teeth all made of broken tile

Burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

And while the explosions weren't offensive they were leisurely correct

And they knocked out all the sense he'd acquired

And though the needle didn't hurt much and the electric rain fell

He couldn't tell if he was happy or just tired

And when the lights went out alltogether with a lurch

He just collapsed on the floor in a pile

Burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

And the waitress couldn't save him with her tarantula dance

And his friends all took a trip to the moon

And his momma bought a tubetop ticket to the great beyond

And said I'll be back boy on every afternoon

And though his belly shook with spiders and the butterflies were damaged

And they lounged like the dead in the bile

He was burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

And thirty years of agony a candle in his throat

And a thousand cheers from Satan's many friends

Wouldn't help the ankle bites or bitter little treasures

Because the road of life it never really ends

So count your coppers sweetie and thank Jesus you're contented

Cause the range goes right off the dial

When you're burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

And everybody changes why they change is no ones business

And what your business is is anybody's guess

Just make sure your money's spent and every little turnip thought

You ring out of your head is heaven blessed

Then maybe all avoidance to the contradictory nature of the blues will

Pass you by in sweet denial

While you're burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile

If this city had a heart which it doesn't I'd imagine

That that muscle it'd be made out of coal

And it'd burn like the ashes of the dead sun mutants

Everybody's got to dig their own hole

And if you're gonna go under well you might as well go under

While you can still go under in style

Burning both ends down at the holiday house

In the land of the crocodile