Оригинален текст
Slow to marry, swift to die
We leave disasters where they lie
I know these lines look crooked on paper
But I swear I got it straight in my head
And if youe looking for somebody to blame, I recommend the dead
(I recommend the dead ause they never answer back).
Skinny dipping in the lake
I got the itch, I drank the wake
Would somebody please hand me a towel?
And now wee up on molehill mountain
Scr*ping coins out of the fountain with the retinue of dirty old young, young men (again).
But when I get back from Nashville
i renting a room in the loyalty building
I sure that the prospects are sound in the event of calamitous circumstance
Or great good fortune.
Yhere must be a reason, there must be a Plan.
A palace in receivership
A jester with a busted lip
A catalog of crooked answers...
Wee all heard about the r*pist nun.
She pulled a switch on everyone.
The altar boys aren having fun
And the papacy is drawing up the papers (behind closed doors).
But in the me-heanwhile...
I renting a room in the loyalty building
I sure that the prospects are sound in the event of calamitous circumstance
or great good fortune there must be a reason there must be a plan.