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Story behind the song
A lot of people think there's really deep, hidden messages in this song. Really I was humming along to the guitar part and just using random words to keep my place, I liked the way it sounded and that's the song.
Lyrics
He's a magistrative answer
He's a serpentine rabbit in velvetine
Full of a full sense of unyielding passion
And prodigiously predictable lies
He'll steal you in a heartbeat, darling
Set you on fire and call you a star
So don't sit under the tree with anyone but me
Cause Johnny Appleseed, he steals like a thief
And the robber rabbit's mad-hatter friend said
"Love is only make-believe
And the bitter only ride with me;
Sad always sits in the rocking chair alone.
Well nevermind whatever I said
That ever I meant to mean,
I'm only alive on the turntable in the picnic in the park."
Where the chattering crows and the scapegoats
Live in solitude, unknown
It's a devastating cupboard
Where the raptured and enamoured are finely embalmed
Put on the windowsill, a tragic reminder
That your love and pain will both end the same
We're simply molded novels
Johnny read us all and threw us out- he plays a sick game
The patriarchs, the diplomats, the slaves and the farmers
Maybe pawns...may be lost
And the potted author's mad-hatter friend said
"Love is only make-believe
Grief comes along for the ride;
And sad always sits in the rocking chair alone.
Appleseeds and fruit trees flower
But his power only comes in the end.
He's only alive on the turntable in the picnic in the park."
Where the rambling bums and forgotten nuns
Die in misty rain, unknown
His sad appetite
Well it happens to have in it
Everything and everyone, and everything and everyone you know
And everything you don't comes out to feast
::Musical interlude thinger::
And the prophet martyr's mad-hatter friend said
"Love is only make-believe
Fear makes the world go 'round.
And sad always sits in the rocking chair alone
Broken emotion and you pantomime love
The apples keep falling below
I'm only alive on the turntable in the picnic in the park."
Where the bustling trees and the tumbleweeds
Dry and wither now, unknown