Written by Ben Mullins Transcribed by Mark Na-Na ([email protected]) She left the phonebox shouting delirious, she's delirious He is the king of the crop in all of his lunacy, in his lunacy All the boys in this town They've all got big black eyes And the girls are really sweet Or they're clever until they're tired And you know sleep it don't come easy If sleep bothers to come at all In the land of give and take King Idiot falls, King Idiot falls He met her outside Lucky's Tracoria Was she the real thing or just a facsimile, a facsimile And rumours are being fueled By minerals and turpentine Hey Lisa, the city's dead But it's not getting any quieter And sleep it don't .....
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