I've got talking sickness. Laredo number nine. I pull the pages over the line. C an you hear me? There's something wrong with me, I can't talk, I can't speak, I can hardly even say these words at all. Yeah I know there's something wrong with me, and I haven't got a thing that i can spin around my head. Ties the tongue w ith silver string and holds almost everything. Painted on like clouds and sky. I built a pair of human eyes. Ties the tongue with silver string hold on almost e verything and it's only half of what you always wanted. Everybody's got it all a nd it's going around.
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