The Soup

The soup, the soup, the soup, the soup...

The soup was hot and split pea and on the stove

And michael and marry and bugsy and buster were occupied

The pictures as clear as an illusion in their mind

And the plan was foolproof but there was so much to do

First they'd decide who'd drive the car, who'd wear the masks and who'd bribe the cops

Then they'd decide what were the rules, when do you shoot and when do you hold back

They'd synchronize their watches and their heartbeats and their ribcages

This can't be a mess, this can't be a mess...

Nobody knows how it comes to be that they think that they must and they do what they can

But the cops are right there and the sirens they blare and the bystarers stare and everyone just stands

Bugsy went down first, then marry, then michael drove off and buster just ran

He was running like a child running in a game of tag

Until he was hit, until he was it...