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The Flaming Lips
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Fryin' Up
All right!
Turn around in the perfect day
Without my babies I could get nowhere
I run a long time, people stare
I'll get the bus and my legs will tear
Frying up on Easter Sunday
Blowing off everything on Monday
Well everything was half past noon
All the tussle, baby, on your boots
I want to move you but I just don't care
Get to pushing on an electric chair
Frying up on Easter Sunday
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Blowing off everything on Monday
Take it!
I keep on running, yes, it's such a thrill
I feel like heaven when I touch your hair
I'm in your arms and in your stare
Get to pushing on an electric chair
Frying up on Easter Sunday
Blowing off everything on Monday
Frying up on Easter Sunday
Frying up on Easter Sunday
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