Teeth Like God's Shoeshine Lyrics - The Lonesome Crowded West - Modest Mouse

From the top of the ocean, yeah 

From the bottom of the sky, goddamn 

Well I get claustrophobic 

I can you know that I can 

And he said, 

"I am not allowed much danger 

Keep in line you're an old friend stranger. 

You'll burn me in effigy and I'll burn you in effigy." 

A rattle snake up in buffalo Montana 

He bit the leg of the old sheriff 

Ha! That boy fell down on his harelip -Ow! Ow! 

Well I might be wrong 

But you you tag along 

And we we all been wronged 

And I get dizzier by the mile 

Said hell! The money's spent 

Went to the county line 

And paid the rent said "Uh-oh." 

Oh! If you could compact your conscience 

Oh! And you might. 

Oh! If you could bottle and sell it you might have done 

Oh! And you might 

Oh! If you could compact your conscience 

And sell it save it for another time 

You might have to use it. 

And the televisions gone 

Go to the grocery store, buy some new friends 

And find out the beginning, the end, and the best of it 

Well, do you need a lot of what you've got to survive? 

Here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine 

He sparkles shimmers shines 

Let's all have another Orange Julius 

Thick syrup standing in lines 

The malls are the soon to be ghost towns 

So long, farewell, good-bye 

Take 'em all for the long ride 

And you'll go around town 

No one wants to be uptight anymore 

You can be ashamed 

Or be so proud of what you've done 

But not no one, not now, not ever or anyone 

Take 'em all for the sense of happiness 

That comes from hurting deep down inside 

Or you can walk th line and give a shit 

I'm on the corner of this and this and this and this 

And its all all wrong, and its all all gone 

Well, you can add it up and give a shit 

Go to the family doctor 

Its all worth it 

And its all all gone, and its all all wrong 

Here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine 

He sparkles shimmers shines 

Let's all have another Orange Julius 

Thick syrup standing in lines 

The malls are the soon to be ghost towns 

So long, farewell, good-bye 

And the telephone goes off 

Pick to receiver up, try to meet ends 

And find out the beginning, the end and the best of it