...And All The Candy You Can Eat - The Paper Chase

I’m running out of rhymes

I’m running out of art

I’m running out of songs to sing

About this wicked world breaking my heart

I caught the smell of honey

In the tragedian landfill

And if the honey don’t get me

I know the beehive will

Into the oven you go

I’m running low on lime

to put the rest of lyrics

I’m dripping dry on themes and schemes

To hobble with your walking stick

Who’s that a-nibbling at my house

The kids will answer the wind, the wind

Into the oven you go

Don’t give me that, little pig

'Cause you know better by now

That not by the hair of your chin

I’ll have to blow your house down

How do you like it, how do you like it

Now you know now

The horror is in our hands

The hands that hold our hearts down

Into the oven you go

And that’s the fever talking, honey

«I've come to fatten you up»

'Cause I’m an open book, my honey

Except when the book is shut

Who’s that a-nibbling at my house

The kids will answer the wind, the wind

Don’t give me that, little pig

'Cause you know better by now

That not by the hair of your chin

I’ll have to blow your house down

Good god almighty!

How do you like it, how do you like it

Now you know now

The horror is in our hands

The hands that hold our hearts down

The beauty is unbearable

We want to stretch it all out

The cripple cries out to walk

The songless sings their heart out

Good god almighty!

How do you like it, how do you like it

Once you know now

The horror is in our hands

The hands that hold our hearts down

Into the over you go