They Want My Soul - Spoon
Written by：Britt Danie
Let's go get out in the street
Somebody's gotta
Let's get the stars to align
For lambs of slaughter
In the photographs
Their eyes make a signal path
And the feeling goes on and
On and on and on and on
And on and on and on
Uhm don't it feel like Friday night
Cars are all lined up
Let it go push you around
Oh what's it amount to
Card sharks and street preachers want my soul
Up sellers and palm readers want my soul
Post sermon socialites
Park chanters and skin tights
All they want's my soul
Yeah they want my soul
In the photograph
Your eyes make a signal path
And the feeling goes on and
On and on and on and on
And on and on and on and on
Let's go lose track of time
Somebody's gotta
Let's get the stars to align
For lambs to slaughter
Educated folk singers want my soul
Jonathon Fisk still wants my soul
I got nothing I want to say 'em
They got nothing left I want
All they want's my soul
Yes yes I know it
They want my soul
They want my soul
Oh ah want my soul
Oh ah they want my soul
Oh ah they want my soul
