Rash Of Robberies Lyrics - Year Of The Crow - State Radio

Solarium malaria lookin' for the stereo 

Wanted to save being excommunicated from the area, it's okay 

In the city said, he cut a cord of wood 

No bigger than a thimble but still plenty good, it's okay 

'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies 

On account of the worlds economy that's makin' us sick 

Go get the man who said he's on to me 

He thinks we're in the kitchen with our sticks 

But he don't know that Paris is burnin' down 

You'd never know it in this town 

The governor's walkin' around 

Like he's got tricks for you 

Catch as Cassius never become the killin' machine 

Run him over ruff shod 'til he bleeds army green out, so devout 

To the saint that lost his seat he never seen 

Semi-automatic rosary out devout 

'Cause it's just a bump on a rash of robberies 

In a world too sad for Solomon we just sit 

I'll watch your economy 

I'll tell you when the police have it fixed 

See Paris is burnin' down 

You'd never know it in this town 

The governor's walkin' around 

Like he's got tricks for you 

So take a minute to laugh it over 

We'll make sure it's all true 

Just like she said 

Behind the barn last December eve 

Baby falls 40 feet caught by a street cleaner 

Coming home from the union hall, he saw the fall, it's okay 

JP Sousa found a radio, a radio 

Sousa found a place to go, a radio in his head that said 

It's just a bump on a rash of robberies 

An old sand lot anomaly that's savin' this day 

In a world too sad for sodomy 

We're just sitting in the kitchen with our stray 

But Paris is burnin' down 

The governors are walkin' around 

We'll make sure 

That they do right by you 

So you think you might go to Beatrice 

Even though the letter was never found 

Maybe it will come tomorrow noon 

She is askin' her fallen saint to 

Please return her straitlaced fighter 

Who don't know who she is 

He don't know who she is 

Where are you my sweet Desmond Doss? 

Have you softly gone to winter? 

Here I've brought you your 2 2 dollar bills back 

But I'm not waitin' for sweet Eliza 

She can have her watercolors back 

I found them on last December eve 

You look strangely quite so familiar 

The way you talk of supper time 

But I don't know who she is 

Don't know who she is 

And you, you bring this beloved stranger 

At the foot of this pile on Gideon's bed 

She gave me a needlepoint motorbike 

So go and take this to sweet Eliza 

It was written and gently given to 

The courier pendin' arrival soon 

Could you hold me just one more older? 

Then I'll go as your fallen fighter 

Waitin' at the door, can't see you anymore 

Here my dear a sweet Nostrovia 

In a letter sent to December 

I will wait for you to just humble me home