So I turned on the radio and everyone was
listening to chicken jazz...
See that man over there...
He`s got cold feet
He`d march to the drum
But the drummer`s
Dead beat
He`s fragile tonight
But he says he`s clean
He`s uncertain when he`s speaking
But he knows what he means
Ah he`s shivering now
But he don`t look cold
He say
Turn up the weather
So I do as I`m told
Do you know about empty
Die a little inside
Cos he hasn`t lived until he`s died
You couldn`t have lived until you`ve tried
He hasn`t lived until he`s died
The Little Death...
See that woman over there
She got cold feet
She`d march to the drum
But the drummer`s
Dead beat
She reach for the sky
But the sky turn black
She hanging by her nails
but her knuckles just cracked
She said, "It`s strange but nice to have no
future or past
If you can`t stand the heat
you just turn up the gas"
I nod as if I know she can`t say I haven`t tried
Cos she hasn`t lived until she`s died
you couldn`t have lived until you`ve tried
She hasn`t lived until she`s died