lyrics
Took a dead horse, beat it raw.
Paint it up and they all applaud
as it’s wheeled out on the stage.
The limp carcass swings to and fro
smoke fumes so the strings won’t show
then it’s right back in the cage.
And all the praise runs hot when what you’ve got is sold in a photograph.
Then the shoulder’s cold when an uncracked mold is left on behalf of...
Pizazster...a glance is all you get.
Caught an angel, plucked it’s wings.
Let it starve until it sings
the songs we want to hear.
Shrouded in such lavish style.
Lit just right to feign a smile.
Not a dry eye of deaf ear.
And all the praise runs hot when what you’ve got is sold in a photograph.
Then the shoulder’s cold when an uncracked mold is left on behalf of...
Pizazster...a glance is all you get.
Flash. Trash.
No trick too cheap, to heard the sheep.
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