I knew it musta been some big set-up. All the Action just would not let up. It's just a little bit back from the main road where the silence spreads and the men dig holes. I start to spin the tale you complain of my diction You give me friction But I dig friction You know I'm crazy about friction My eyes are like telescopes I see it all backwards: but who wants hope? If I ever catch that ventriloquist I'll squeeze his head right into my fist. something comes tracking down, What's the prediction? I'll betcha it's friction... Stop this head motion... set the sails. You know all us boys gonna wind up in jail. I don't wanna grow up there's too much contradiction