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Your Beef Is Mine (Fog)

A three-piece suit on me A tutu on you In an empty airplane hangar At a table for two A pregnant pause A thought exhaled In the jowls of the work-week Spare me the details And if you ever did Spy a giant squid With your lazy eye With its drooping lid We're in this together Son, your beef is mine Well, Vern sunburns himself For to peel the old him off To find the red him underneath The redder him, more raw Scooping out his brains With a rusted grapefruit spoon Drinking his own urine In the executive washroom And if you've ever been An unconvincing spokesman in A seminar in telling jokes Making ( ? ) notes We're in this together Son, your beef is mine But if you ever died Or ever genuinely tried Or if you ever were denied Your elements or sense of pride If you sputtered and you stuttered And you tied yourself in knots And under your breath You muttered something someone else forgot And if you ever have Missed your flight to Leningrad Running down some airport stairs Semen running down your leg We're in this together Son, your beef is mine Well, who tells you to work? "The Devil" Who tells you when you get a day off? "The Devil" And who gives you your pay? "The damn devil" Aw, and who takes it away? "The devil" That tape recorder ( ? ) bag Oh, he don't know how to act Oh, he don't know how to throw I want my fucking money back Oh, I want to think without Hearing my mind mouth talk Be neutered and lobotomized And pushed out of a truck And if you ever were Somewhere where you never were Inside someone else's skin Stealing someone's self from him We're in this together Son, your beef is mine. Your beef is mine Your beef is mine Your beef is mine