You say I get a little nasty You say I'm just showing off In front of the visitors You say I'm going for cheap Cheap laughs
He's my offstage prompter It's true, he helps me connect With my big napoleon I don't know what that's about What was that about?
We will receive you in the good room That still smells of pledge Pictures of our smiling faces Stations of the cross of teeth And puberty
She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries
Now before you start I'm not making fun People cry at the strangest things Mine is the venezuelan national anthem
So many deepest of feelings So much emotional porn Public declarations Windy words that fill the sails Of empty vessels
She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries at motorcades She cries
What is it that gets her? Is it the strong arm of the state? Little flags and outriders Shiny gloves that part the sea Of little people
Or is the getting From a to b? (but it's the least we can do) Behind tinted windows (to ease your passage) Carry the weight of the world (leave us in this) Carry the weight of the world (blissful ignorance)