| Lyrics: | Well they paid him the advance,
and waited for the book.
But the writer didn't care
none,
no he didn't give a F. F. F. F.
Fortune squandered,
he's drugged up bad.
They
called him insane,
the called him a fag.
Somewhere in the city,
unanswered
prayers.
Somewhere in the city,
one man, one man dared.
He's got 'em searching the
attic,
and tearing down walls.
Emptying cupboards,
and ripping up floors.
I know
it's here,
a secret told.
I'll tell ya it's true man,
it's literate
gold.
Slurring speech,
in interviews.
Looking a little fat.
Bloodshot
eyes,
don't forget the hat.
I know it's here,
a secret told.
I tell ya' it's true
man,
only he knows,
only he knows,
only he knows where to bulldoze. |
