Lyrics Clowns Galore - Therapy?
Morning
is
yawning
and
out
comes
the
sun
With
no
choice
but
to
light
nothing
new
Opening
eyes
as
the
radio
sighs
Three
chords
and
any
old
lies
On
to
the
sheets
and
maybe
the
streets
I
imagine
as
vibrant
and
shrill
A
comedy
troupe
of
molecular
soup
Atoms
chiming
in
time
and
in
tune
Give
us
circus
and
bread
It
keeps
us
happy
But
what
do
we
do,
now
we
are
happy?
Gorging
on
everything
all
of
the
time
Passing
it
on
to
the
brood
Fattening
kids
for
the
future
ahead
In
case
we
run
out
of
food
The
audience
roar
and
move
in
for
the
kill
A
spectacle
threatening
to
spill
They
want
it
right
now,
but
they
want
it
low
fat
Expectancy
drips
down
their
chins
Give
us
circus
and
bread
It
keeps
us
happy
But
what
do
we
do,
now
we
are
happy?
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