Advertising On Police Cars - Matthew Good

Hey, Mr. Chips

How’s the wife?

And are the kids still poison?

Do you still eat them?

Been under the gun

Running the guns

Say how’d this world get so fucking fun

All of a sudden?

All of a sudden?

Here’s a quarter for the phone

Why don’t you call someone

And find out how it is we can all belong

To something that no one

Wants any part of

One day you’ll wake up

And there’ll be

Advertising on police cars

And your death will sell you out as someone smart

Somewhat smart

Baby don’t get out out of bed

Just lay back down your pretty head

They’re advertising on police cars

Police cars

Police cars

Hey, Mr. Chips

Had me a notion

Like a burning sky dropped to the ocean

A bitter pill, is it better still?

To lay undone your guts for show?

To reconstruct some of your bones?

To turn it up?

When it calls to you will you wake up?

They’re advertising on police cars

Your death will sell you out as someone smart

Somewhat smart

Baby don’t get out of bed

Just lay back down your pretty head

They’re advertising on police cars

Police cars

Police cars

Oh, Oh