One, two, tell me your big secret. I got two more reasons not to keep it. Flies on the ceiling. Speedy making magic on the speedway. Choose your own adventure or your own way to waste. Flies on the ceiling. It's a ghost from a story and his boo's getting boring. It's a ghost you swear you've seen but he doesn't haunt anything. Fingerprinting cops put out a query. At a punk show back in Hoppers someone asks what it means to see flies on the ceiling, mating and molting. If I cast a spell it's cuz I loved you, and if you're dead I'll still wind up above you. Lay back, leave it to me. Check out the ceiling. It's a ghost from a story, closing doors draining heat. Gangs cry, witches divine. Milk the sheet and put it to sleep. Silhouetto serpentine. Take out your belly ring. Eyes, an eggy cataract cream, eye the flies on the ceiling.
