His Girl Friday is the first song off our demo, "Indian to Cowboy; Cowboy to Indian". If you are interested, we have copies available for dirt cheap. You can email us at ChairmanMaoandtheFiveYearPlan@hotmail.com for details.
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Lyrics
I want my four sets of teeth.
But so far from land I can hardly breathe.
Set up fluorescent lights for superhero fights,
In this game, villains get the last say.
Square, squared, square.
Cube, cubed, cube.
So let’s outline the grass and the potted plants.
With our magic washable markers.
How the hell am I suppose to find my way home,
When all the street signs look the same.
Position, velocity, acceleration
Chew, swallow, digestion
Constant change, so I’ve decreased the gains.
I can’t pay up till I know the end,
All the figures are loosing points, not pedigrees.
I’ll set up the boxing ring.
Place you bets, win you bets,
Loose, loose, loose the fame.
Pay the man, he knows what’s best.
Place you bets, win your bets,
Loose, loose, loose the game.
I had expected black and white for sure,
And these colours they make this place obscene.
The instructions are here for the taking,
While the bridge is burning down.
No truth behind the silence.
No place to speak freely.
Part-time for the change, and then rearrange.
Sine, cosine, sine, cosine.
So, no the headlights are going out,
And it’s too dark to read.
And we couldn’t see ourselves,
If it weren’t for each other.
Aim in the target.
Lock on the bulls eye.
Shot, bang, dead.
This wall can’t hold all the criminals.
Poker faces around the table.
Draw your guns and fold you hands.
A look that turned soldiers to stone,
And my hands will become the Midas touch.
Draw your guns, and fold you hands
