Attaboy

Attaboy Attaboy Sometimes I have problems relating to Batman A billionaire in a bondage suit stomping the destitute with Freudian jackboots Then I realize he's an anarchist radical in disguise He probably listens to In My Eyes Of course it feels better when you realize a punk can fly He can fly

Why do you do just what they told you? Have them both at once, have them both at once Why don't you feel bad? Why don't you feel had? You split the baby just to please the crutch of desperate mothers out for blood Attaboy Attaboy

Sometimes I gut and skin those who cannot reconcile my stance Muddled spiritual phrase Pseudo-political rage Beer gut on a sober man Then I press my calloused flesh to someone who's out of my league And knowingly laugh knowing life is transcending heat-death and its aftermath Attaboy Attaboy

Why do you do just what they told you? Have them both at once, have them both at once Why don't you feel bad? Why don't you feel had? You split the baby just to please the crutch of desperate mothers out for blood Why do you do just what they told you?

I think it's a crying shame that you're not at this show Because I'm trying to tap into something you reluctantly know Don't jam it in private so all your co-workers won't know Nobody's watching over you You can nod your head precious We can drown out the daytime soap you live And the ghosts you've been mourning I know we keep plugging away at the same octave chords We only know octave chords A career built on octave chords Butchered to jilted time But it's the frightfully mundane that keeps us alive So keep on keeping on

Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on Keep on keeping on