living on moonlight, i sleep most the day. yeah, there's even been lovers since you ran away. and the rain, when i kissed the last one was all drizzling and cold. this is no mystery. our future, it's history. and in a year, will you say that you miss me? after nights in the gutter, well i finally washed these sheets.

tell me, tell me, where do i go in this library of the little red men? where the graffiti's just scribbles and shapes and the librarian's passed out again. it's a four letter, four letter, four letter world.

now i'm cleaner than the river that runs through our ghetto. i _ easier than a chainsaw to a papa giupetto. i'm freer than an underwearless man. i'm freer than japan.

will there be laughter when we make our break? will there be cigarettes if we're burned at the stake? yeah, i've learned that depression gets better when undressing.

tell me, tell me, where do i go in this library of the little red men? where the graffiti's just scribbles and shapes and the librarian's passed out again. tell me, tell me, where do i go? whoa. in a four letter, four letter, four letter world. and the next waste of time, may it be just as fine. i would pray that there was one, but i can find nothing divine. it's all vanity and some profanity. _