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In the high life I've got this feeling now
I've got this horrible feeling
On the escalator they took it out on him
As the ridiculous world went by
Oh he is gone
He's my insatiable one
On the high wire dressed in a leotard
There wobbles one hell of a retard
On the escalator we shit paracetamol
As the ridiculous world goes by
Oh he is gone
He's my insatiable one
And he was my inflatable one
I've got this horrible feeling
On the escalator they took it out on him
As the ridiculous world went by
Oh he is gone
He's my insatiable one
On the high wire dressed in a leotard
There wobbles one hell of a retard
On the escalator we shit paracetamol
As the ridiculous world goes by
Oh he is gone
He's my insatiable one
And he was my inflatable one
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I think Salvador Dali wanted a conjoined schizoid-analysis to render his Persistence of Memory incalculable. He found it in Sleep