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Michael McGuire - The Dreamers Landlord lyrics
THE DREAMERS LANDLORD
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.
Shes sweeping out the dust that has collected, in all the sleepy eyes of 
the mornings apathy, every TV; every mirror has been infected, with a 
blindness only first born sons can see, something has been forgotten 
and is nagging, like a sock turned under at the toe, like the history of 
dreams weve been dragging, its just something your sure you ought 
to know, meanwhile nothing at all is happening anywhere else, though 
your convinced it is, we just never know what to do with ourselves, the 
focus of the cameras blush; thats show biz. 
Smaller than a gnat; this caretaker of dreams, ah but the world is a 
gnat hung in heavens hide, only the void of Virgo is what it seems, one 
drop of water lost in the moon fed tide, over in the building where the 
landlords lover lives, theres a woman on her back in a pool swimming 
meltdowns, shes got the kind of blue only the makeup artist gives, she 
and her dildo are busy breeding ghost towns, the tongue of the 
satellite stutters in revelation, our heros gut digests the beetle bones, 
and desire mixes with faith to brew desperation, dead and dying gods 
prayers and karmic loans. With deadpan significance the night chews 
up another day, until time is all thats left of the meaning, the landlord 
gives you two choices move or pay, and every building he owns is 
leaning, he gets his clothes from the butchers tailor, gets most of his 
best sex from his girlfriends mother, hes got the heart of a prisoner 
and the soul of a jailer, behind your back hes your ex?wife; to your Michael McGuire - The Dreamers Landlord - http://motolyrics.com/michael-mcguire/the-dreamers-landlord-lyrics.html
face hes your brother, there are eleven people moving with the eye of 
the hurricane, where the weather is like the hungry stomach of a lamb, 
and you have to water your thirst with a fistful of rain, but youd have 
to give everything you have; just to give a damn. 
The sun gives shape to the same old new world everyday, thats the 
landlords deceit; he just rents the light, but the caretaker; she knows 
the wingless way, and how to separate the yoke of day from the egg of 
night, something other than the what could be is turning her vision, 
there goes the landlords lover; she hates that bi***, who moves like a 
piston while she drags her indecision, across the aching heap of Virgo 
and the butchers ditch, black and white dreamers are being hauled into 
labor camps, its hard to find a reason to live that wont kill you, the 
landlords lover; she dreams false labor cramps, owe the price of 
nothing and she will bill you. 
Inside some minds eye in need of a lens, the landlord is constructing 
gods and revising sins, incognito seasons build upon the arrogance of 
his causality, and elevates this pulp fiction to high tragedy, but the 
caretaker she continues; all on a beggars wages, she is always crushing 
grapes and building stages, and the blue lady she wants to take the 
landlords lovers place, but it will never happen because shes got a 
mirror for a face, the landlord he doesnt believe in the butchers 
charity, just the blindness of the dreamers clarity. 
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