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The DoneFors
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Mouth Full of Marbles
Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
You play the envelope I am the contraband
Rolling in to another slum
To find the perfect place to hide an ugly face
To burn beneath the beating of a sun
A shy mechanic hand is under sharp command
To disassemble every fallen stone
We'll muscle out the slaughter sippin' on holy water
'Til we can't remember why we landed here
Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
So hide the good in your guts and then
We'll go once more 'round the dance floor
Moving in these parallels
Showing signs of struggling
A fox in a wishing well
We'll sedate the children now
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And bail them up like spools of hay
Set the dial to the opera
In the middle of the final scene
I'm an anxious guillotine
With mouth full of marbles
No more fight left in these bones
No boiling blood, no bending wills
Spent up and taken out
Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
Wheel me on out in a paper bag
On a ticker tape parade day
The sun has burned down every drop of blood
Every drop of blood and consolation
Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
So hide the good in your guts and then
We'll go once more 'round the dance floor
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