The Finest Joke Is Upon Us - Guided By Voices

Mother, feeling your hand, eye

Believe you and I did then

And mother, release every bad seed

The geese are leaving the trees

Exposed to winter’s cold

They waited too long

But we too exaggerated and now take the cake away

It’s a long song and I can’t play it so

Give me a grip now, collector of bones

Worlds of smoke

Distorted mirror broken, paradise is open but I choke

One of these days when I see through the smoke

There’ll be the day I get the joke

Exposed to winter’s cold

They waited too long

But we too exaggerated and now take the cake away

It’s a long song and I can’t play it so

Give me a grip now, collector of bones

Worlds of smoke

Distorted mirror broken, paradise is open but I choke

One of these days when I see through the smoke

There’ll be the day I get the joke