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Live At Montreux Jazz Festival, July 2022: You Will Never Work In Television Again
The Smile
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Fear not, my love
He's a fat fucking mist
Young bones spat out
Girls slitting their wrists
Curtain calling for the kiss
From a nursery rhyme
Behind some rocks
Underneath some bridge
Some gangster troll promising the moon
Yeah, right
Sleep tight
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All night
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Some kid in golden chains
Two slippery ropes
A lonely stitch left to be unpicked
Including my left foot
Turn the lights down low
Bunga-bunga, or you'll
Never work in television again
He chews 'em up, he spits 'em out
It's whatshisname, the genie man
Mechanical, mechanical
All those beautiful hopes and dreams
Devoured by those evil eyes
And them piggy limbs
You sad fuck, throwing small change
Get your dirty hands off my love
Heaven knows where else you've been
Heaven knows where else you've been
Heaven knows where else you've been
Heaven knows where else you've been
Heaven knows where else you've been
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(Thank you)
(Thank you, everyone)
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