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Cannonball Statman
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Tornado in Brooklyn
This smoke rises from below me.
This smoke rises from below the trees.
I call you up, and I talk to you on the phone;
you're not really listening.
'If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll invent a way to spin around your world.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll rise out from these flames.'
The cities rising from below me.
The cities towering over the trees.
I call a friend about these days to come.
She says, 'I'm not really listening.
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If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll invent a way to spin around your world.
And when your windows break in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll rise out from these flames.
This smoke rises from below me.
This smoke rises from below the trees.'
I call you up, and I talk to you on the phone;
you're not really listening.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll invent a way to spin around your world.
If there's a tornado in Brooklyn, I will fine you.
I'll rise out from these flames.
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