Talkshow Boy - LCD Soundsystem is Locked Under The Stairs and Forcefed Methadone At My House lyrics

Drink from the wound from the side of the animal Fall to the floor in a splash of lights Skip to the end of the end of the recipe Fall to the floor Fall, fall, Caravaggio I feel kicky I feel courageous I feel claustrophobic I feel cool Red run rivers run dry blood red To the land so low, I'm sloganeering Playing Sega too, growing up like you You're so backwards, I'm so forward You buy buy buy into new trends When I look inwards you look outwards Mocking my lifestyle, f**ing my friends While I'm in bed the scum from the speakers slinks on out So call 1900-POLICE, it's the Mark of the Beast Pop icon, snow cat rival Pop icon, snow cat rival Drink from the drip from the prick in the artery Shoot to the stars with a league of chums Sip from the stream, so sick of society Postmodernism made punk rock everything I feel better I feel ballistic I feel bourgeois and I feel big Dead DJs spin d**hrock discs A curse transmitted via 12" Too few beats per minute, baby Chin up, kids, they're making a k**ing Dancing hard to horrible bands Who play The Eagles while they are pilling Doing coke, ignoring their fans While I'm in bed with Siskel & Ebert Two thumbs down So call 411-CRITIQUE, it's your birthright Pop icon, snow cat rival Pop icon, snow cat rival All I really need is all of my things In the one fixed place at the one fixed time I die (give up the ghost) It's my birthright Birthrights