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miss new buddha - john frum (america) lyrics

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found a pot at the end of some curved light
got wish granted
command of an island and tribe
huts convert into warehouses
turned police of the chiefs
turned shamans into spies
huts convert into warehouses
grow a fruit forbidden
ferment it on the vine
huts convert into warehouses
product storage for surpluses from production

hear ye! hear ye!
here i come appearing at any party suffering a power shortage
with a trumpet and a snare drum and a bag of seeds to spray
singing, “you’ll get a bucket of gold lent
to you at the end of the bend”

i pretend in red pen and then i draw and quarter your borders
you gotta take a lot of blues to keep my pain at bay
there’s no utopia when the fiery end of my reign glows
the closer you get the quicker i have to make it fade
huts convert into warehouses
the closer you get the quicker my trumpet starts to play
huts convert into warehouses
product storage for surpluses from production

hear ye! hear ye!
here i come appearing at any party suffering a power shortage
with a trumpet and a snare drum and a bag of seeds to spray
singing, “you’ll get a bucket of gold lent
to you at the end of the bend
in the arc of time”

marching onwards
4/4 forever forwards
marching onwards
bark bark bark barking orders
not too long now ’til my trumpet starts to play
and all my songs are splitting headaches

wrote a bad song
called it “bad son”
wrote a bad song
called it “bad son”
let it unplug
won’t play that one
wrote a bad song
called it “bad son”
let it unplug
won’t play that one
let it unplug
won’t play that one
let it unplug
won’t play that one in my home
home
raiders in my home
home
one in my home
home
raiders in my home
home
one in my home
home
raiders in my home
home
one in my home
home
raiders in my



- miss new buddha lyrics

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