Dead Finks Don't Talk Lyrics - Brian Eno

Oh cheeky cheeky 

Oh naughty sneaky 

You're so perceptive and I wonder how you knew. 

But these finks don't walk too well 

A bad sense of direction 

And so they stumble round in threes 

Such a strange collection. 

Oh you headless chicken 

Can those poor teeth take so much kicking? 

You're always so charming 

As you peck your way up there. 

And these finks don't dress too well 

No discrimination 

To be a zombie all the time 

Requires such dedication. 

Oh please, sir will you let it go by 

'Cause I failed both tests with my legs both tied 

In my place the stuff is all there 

I've been ever so sad for a very long time 

My my they wanted the works can you this and that 

I never got a letter back 

More fool me bless my soul 

More fool me bless my soul. 

Oh perfect masters 

They thrive on disasters 

They all look so harmless 

Till they find there way up there. 

But dead finks don't talk too well 

They've got a shaky sense of diction 

It's not so much a living hell 

It's just a dying fiction.