Lyrics Little Palaces - Elvis Costello
                                                In 
                                                chocolate 
                                                town 
                                                all 
                                                the 
                                                trains 
                                                are 
                                                painted 
                                                brown
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                silver 
                                                paper 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                wrapper
 
                                    
                                
                                                There's 
                                                    a 
                                                dapper 
                                                little 
                                                man
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                he 
                                                wears 
                                                    a 
                                                wax 
                                                mustache
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                he 
                                                twists 
                                                with 
                                                nicotine 
                                                fingers
 
                                    
                                
                                                As 
                                                he 
                                                drops 
                                                his 
                                                cigarette 
                                                ash
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                someone 
                                                comes 
                                                and 
                                                sweeps 
                                                it 
                                                up
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                then 
                                                he 
                                                doffs 
                                                his 
                                                cap
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                there's 
                                                    a 
                                                rat 
                                                in 
                                                someone's 
                                                bedroom
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they're 
                                                shutting 
                                                someone's 
                                                trap
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they'll 
                                                soon 
                                                be 
                                                pulling 
                                                down 
                                                the 
                                                little 
                                                palaces
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                doors 
                                                swing 
                                                back 
                                                and 
                                                forward
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                past 
                                                into 
                                                the 
                                                present
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                bedside 
                                                crucifixion
 
                                    
                                
                                                Turns 
                                                from 
                                                wood 
                                                to 
                                                phosphorescent
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they're 
                                                moving 
                                                problem 
                                                families
 
                                    
                                
                                                From 
                                                the 
                                                South 
                                                up 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                North
 
                                    
                                
                                                Mother's 
                                                crying 
                                                over 
                                                some
 
                                    
                                
                                                Soft 
                                                soap 
                                                opera 
                                                divorce
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                you 
                                                say 
                                                you 
                                                didn't 
                                                do 
                                                it
 
                                    
                                
                                                But 
                                                you 
                                                know 
                                                you 
                                                did 
                                                of 
                                                course
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they'll 
                                                soon 
                                                be 
                                                pulling 
                                                down 
                                                the 
                                                little 
                                                palaces
 
                                    
                                
                                                It's 
                                                like 
                                                shouting 
                                                in 
                                                    a 
                                                matchbox
 
                                    
                                
                                                Filled 
                                                with 
                                                plasterboard 
                                                and 
                                                hope
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                    a 
                                                picture 
                                                of 
                                                Prince 
                                                William
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                arms 
                                                of 
                                                John 
                                                the 
                                                Pope
 
                                    
                                
                                                There's 
                                                    a 
                                                world 
                                                of 
                                                good 
                                                intentions
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                pity 
                                                in 
                                                their 
                                                eyes
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                sedated 
                                                homes 
                                                of 
                                                England
 
                                    
                                
                                                Are 
                                                theirs 
                                                to 
                                                vandalize
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                you 
                                                knock 
                                                the 
                                                kids 
                                                about 
                                                    a 
                                                bit, 
                                                because 
                                                they've 
                                                got 
                                                your 
                                                name
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                you 
                                                knock 
                                                the 
                                                kids 
                                                about 
                                                    a 
                                                bit, 
                                                until 
                                                they 
                                                feel 
                                                the 
                                                same
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they 
                                                feel 
                                                like 
                                                knocking 
                                                down 
                                                the 
                                                little 
                                                palaces
 
                                    
                                
                                                You're 
                                                the 
                                                twinkle 
                                                in 
                                                your 
                                                daddy's 
                                                eye, 
                                                    a 
                                                name 
                                                you 
                                                spray 
                                                and 
                                                scribble
 
                                    
                                
                                                You 
                                                made 
                                                the 
                                                girls 
                                                all 
                                                turn 
                                                their 
                                                heads
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                in 
                                                turn 
                                                they 
                                                made 
                                                you 
                                                miserable
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                be 
                                                the 
                                                heir 
                                                apparent 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                kingdom 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                invisible
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                you 
                                                knock 
                                                the 
                                                kids 
                                                about 
                                                    a 
                                                bit, 
                                                because 
                                                they've 
                                                got 
                                                your 
                                                name
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                you 
                                                knock 
                                                the 
                                                kids 
                                                about 
                                                    a 
                                                bit, 
                                                until 
                                                they 
                                                feel 
                                                the 
                                                same
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they 
                                                feel 
                                                like 
                                                knocking 
                                                down 
                                                the 
                                                little 
                                                palaces
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 Brilliant Mistake (Live In Studio)
2 Lovable (Live In Studio)
3 Our Little Angel (Live In Studio)
4 Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood (Live In Studio)
5 Glitter Gulch (Live In Studio)
6 Indoor Fireworks (Live In Studio)
7 Little Palaces
8 I'll Wear It Proudly (Live In Studio)
9 American Without Tears (Live In Studio)
10 Eisenhower Blues (Live In Studio)
11 Poisoned Rose (Live In Studio)
12 The Big Light (Live In Studio)
13 Jack of All Parades (Live In Studio)
14 Suit of Lights (Live In Studio)
15 Sleep of the Just (Live In Studio)
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