You Can Call Me Allocator
In a half century, I'm in the obituaries
Crumpled up, saved by hoarders
Memories are for the mourners
Modern prosperity, let go of clarity
Let in barbarity, death in solidarity
Swell conditions, cancel my subscription
Cancel my service, it serves no purpose
Elvis is king because he's evil, he's miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
that we love.
that we love.
It's a kind of commotion hanging onto every notion
A part of distraction where no one can take any action
But am I the perversions in your mind
There's a running joke and I'm at the end of it.
Cut the text, brush off ambition
Hip association, aureate emission
You can call me Al, allocator, agitator,
instigator or something like that
You see no colour but you exploit a culture
A conniving vulture, inflicting torture
Elvis is king because he's evil, he's miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
that we love.
that we love.
T-R-O-U-B-L-E that spells it
T-R-O-U-B-L-E here it comes now.
It's a kind of commotion hanging onto every notion
A part of distraction where no one can take any action
But am I the perversions in your mind
There's a running joke and I'm at the end of it.
Crumpled up, saved by hoarders
Memories are for the mourners
Modern prosperity, let go of clarity
Let in barbarity, death in solidarity
Swell conditions, cancel my subscription
Cancel my service, it serves no purpose
Elvis is king because he's evil, he's miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
that we love.
that we love.
It's a kind of commotion hanging onto every notion
A part of distraction where no one can take any action
But am I the perversions in your mind
There's a running joke and I'm at the end of it.
Cut the text, brush off ambition
Hip association, aureate emission
You can call me Al, allocator, agitator,
instigator or something like that
You see no colour but you exploit a culture
A conniving vulture, inflicting torture
Elvis is king because he's evil, he's miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
that we love.
that we love.
T-R-O-U-B-L-E that spells it
T-R-O-U-B-L-E here it comes now.
It's a kind of commotion hanging onto every notion
A part of distraction where no one can take any action
But am I the perversions in your mind
There's a running joke and I'm at the end of it.
Credits
Writer(s): Fraser Mcclean, Melanie St. Pierre
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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