There's a dead man hanging, slumped over the steering wheel of an interstate
Runaway bursting into flames
And the devil was gently breathing, sleeping face-down in my
Apartment, and like all his friends I'm growing tired of his games...
And there's a homeless man arranging his hands, grooving to the beat
Radiating from a police scanner, who said "The air was feeling good to
Me, just as cool and ripe as air can be," and a woman who sincerely
Believes in UFOs and who can blame her when the stars are hanging
Overhead, dangling by a thread, floating ten thousand feet off the ground...
(This was a story told to me when I was just the age of 17, one which
God himself dictated to me, he said, "This is how all this shits gonna
Be when I blow your little planet into smithereens." It haunted my
Dreams like an accident on reply on a TV screen.)
She sees faces in her dreams--strange machines she'd never seen
Blueprints of submarines to reassemble in a time of dire need
And there were preachers in the desert, waving to the crowd
Dictating seven angry letters from a man up in the clouds
And there were 27 soldiers telling 27 lies
And a hole inside a hurricane with a pair of beady eyes
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
There were strangers in the subway and men in limousines making deals and
Swapping photographs of cans of gasoline, and there are no angels in the woodwork
Or devils on the ground, and they are looking through a hurricane's tectonic wall of
Sound and a man who smokes his cigarettes the other way around and she is looking
In behind him from inside a wall of sound and she is dancing with the neon because
The air is feeling good against her arms and legs and fingertips are measuring the
Distance in the spaces in between me and you and all your friends when there's no
Time to load a weapon and no time to make amends and people frozen in their tracks
Staring at the sky at a hole inside a hurricane revealing...
A pair of beady eyes!
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
Jukebox the Ghost - Beady Eyes on the Horizon Lyrics
Jukebox the Ghost - Beady Eyes on the Horizon Lyrics
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There's a dead man hanging, slumped over the steering wheel of an interstate
Runaway bursting into flames
And the devil was gently breathing, sleeping face-down in my
Apartment, and like all his friends I'm growing tired of his games...
And there's a homeless man arranging his hands, grooving to the beat
Radiating from a police scanner, who said "The air was feeling good to
Me, just as cool and ripe as air can be," and a woman who sincerely
Believes in UFOs and who can blame her when the stars are hanging
Overhead, dangling by a thread, floating ten thousand feet off the ground...
(This was a story told to me when I was just the age of 17, one which
God himself dictated to me, he said, "This is how all this shits gonna
Be when I blow your little planet into smithereens." It haunted my
Dreams like an accident on reply on a TV screen.)
She sees faces in her dreams--strange machines she'd never seen
Blueprints of submarines to reassemble in a time of dire need
And there were preachers in the desert, waving to the crowd
Dictating seven angry letters from a man up in the clouds
And there were 27 soldiers telling 27 lies
And a hole inside a hurricane with a pair of beady eyes
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
There were strangers in the subway and men in limousines making deals and
Swapping photographs of cans of gasoline, and there are no angels in the woodwork
Or devils on the ground, and they are looking through a hurricane's tectonic wall of
Sound and a man who smokes his cigarettes the other way around and she is looking
In behind him from inside a wall of sound and she is dancing with the neon because
The air is feeling good against her arms and legs and fingertips are measuring the
Distance in the spaces in between me and you and all your friends when there's no
Time to load a weapon and no time to make amends and people frozen in their tracks
Staring at the sky at a hole inside a hurricane revealing...
A pair of beady eyes!
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
Runaway bursting into flames
And the devil was gently breathing, sleeping face-down in my
Apartment, and like all his friends I'm growing tired of his games...
And there's a homeless man arranging his hands, grooving to the beat
Radiating from a police scanner, who said "The air was feeling good to
Me, just as cool and ripe as air can be," and a woman who sincerely
Believes in UFOs and who can blame her when the stars are hanging
Overhead, dangling by a thread, floating ten thousand feet off the ground...
(This was a story told to me when I was just the age of 17, one which
God himself dictated to me, he said, "This is how all this shits gonna
Be when I blow your little planet into smithereens." It haunted my
Dreams like an accident on reply on a TV screen.)
She sees faces in her dreams--strange machines she'd never seen
Blueprints of submarines to reassemble in a time of dire need
And there were preachers in the desert, waving to the crowd
Dictating seven angry letters from a man up in the clouds
And there were 27 soldiers telling 27 lies
And a hole inside a hurricane with a pair of beady eyes
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
There were strangers in the subway and men in limousines making deals and
Swapping photographs of cans of gasoline, and there are no angels in the woodwork
Or devils on the ground, and they are looking through a hurricane's tectonic wall of
Sound and a man who smokes his cigarettes the other way around and she is looking
In behind him from inside a wall of sound and she is dancing with the neon because
The air is feeling good against her arms and legs and fingertips are measuring the
Distance in the spaces in between me and you and all your friends when there's no
Time to load a weapon and no time to make amends and people frozen in their tracks
Staring at the sky at a hole inside a hurricane revealing...
A pair of beady eyes!
A pair of beady eyes looking down onto the pavement while the stars are gathered 'round
Because they all will want a front seat when shit starts going down
Because the sun is just a supernova turned the other way around!
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
This is not a test, this is the real thing...
Writer: TOMMY SIEGEL
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management