كلمات Crispin Glover

Loose lips, sink ships, Dennis Hopper They don't love you anymore Blood trails, blackmails leave a light on And put a key in the back door Yeah, they're laughing at you They're not laughing with you It's another guilt slip on my Freudian trip And I think the joke's on me Bad seeds grow weeds, Crispin Glover I wish you were on the TV Girl bruise, sad news on her birthday Turn the channel and you'll see That they're laughing at us They're not laughing with us And I think the joke's on me Just another guilt slip on my Freudian trip As we choke on the irony Yeah, they're laughing at us They're not laughing with us And goddamn, the joke's on me Just another drug slip on my Pagan field trip Are you saint or celebrity? Crispin Glover, save us all