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| R.E.M. Reckoning Little America I can't see myself at thirty, I don't buy a lacquered thirty. Caught like flies, preserved for tomorrow's jewelry, again. Lighted in the amber yard, a green shellback, green shellback. Preserved for tomorrow's eyes, in a tree beer tar-black brer sap. The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest. The consul, a horse, Jefferson I think we're lost. Who will tend the farm museums? Who will dust today's belongings? Who will sweep the floors, hedging near the givens? Rally round your leaders it's the mediator season. Diane is on the beach, don you realize the life she's led? The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest. The consul a horse, oh man I think we're lost. The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest. A matter of course, Jefferson, Jeffer. Lighted in the amber yard, a green shellback, green shellback. Sky-lied, sty-tied, Nero pie-tied, in a tree tar-black brer sap. Reason has harnessed the tame, a lodging, not stockader's game. Another Greenville, another Magic Mart, Jeffer grab your fiddle. The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest. The consul a horse, Jefferson I think we're lost. The biggest wagon is the empty wagon is the noisiest. The consul a horse, Jefferson I think we're lost. Lost. |
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