極上生徒会 〜第50期生〜
Demented New York athletes staggering round the block
Deformed Chicanos pour in, Chicago's rolling stock
Digital bathrooms drilling for furs Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes back to back with Jewish Baroque
No way street, no way street, no way street Happy to see you, have a nice day!
Defecting Russian dancers dance into Hockney prints
Exclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red
From the land of blue rinse
They boggle at menus in Old English verse
"Ode to burger" by Keats at his worst
The hissing of omelets the breaking of legs
Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eggs
The pink fillet mignon looks black on the negs
Strange apparatus, you've never seen
Strange apparatus, even stranger theme
Street alligators, big Anglophile
Will navigate us through a change of style
I came, I saw, what manner of beast is this
New York, you talk a little bit left of center
A scream, a shout New York is throwing its weight about
Walk tall, walk straight, spit the world right in the eye
The stranger the wood the straighter the arrow
Devoted collectors of paraphernalia out walking the rock
Battle and bitch for the ultimate kitsch of a crucifix clock
Two miniature Romans, running on rails
Appear every hour and bang in the nails
I've got to have it, Christ, I gotta be the first on our block
Deformed Chicanos pour in, Chicago's rolling stock
Digital bathrooms drilling for furs Surgical stockings marked his and hers
Guggenheim attitudes back to back with Jewish Baroque
No way street, no way street, no way street Happy to see you, have a nice day!
Defecting Russian dancers dance into Hockney prints
Exclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red
From the land of blue rinse
They boggle at menus in Old English verse
"Ode to burger" by Keats at his worst
The hissing of omelets the breaking of legs
Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eggs
The pink fillet mignon looks black on the negs
Strange apparatus, you've never seen
Strange apparatus, even stranger theme
Street alligators, big Anglophile
Will navigate us through a change of style
I came, I saw, what manner of beast is this
New York, you talk a little bit left of center
A scream, a shout New York is throwing its weight about
Walk tall, walk straight, spit the world right in the eye
The stranger the wood the straighter the arrow
Devoted collectors of paraphernalia out walking the rock
Battle and bitch for the ultimate kitsch of a crucifix clock
Two miniature Romans, running on rails
Appear every hour and bang in the nails
I've got to have it, Christ, I gotta be the first on our block
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