Roman Guitars

The pigs all stormed the Bennigan's
And the band played Touch My Stuff again
We were living up in Michigan back then

The only cats we ever met
Were mangy, lame, and dripping wet
These were not the kinds of cats you pet

I bet when all the lights come up
This club is covered up in cups
Counting cash and coins and gushing blood

The only songs this singer sings
Are songs about his victim things
And no one ever loved him like you did
And then he points at every kid

Some old man in the Vikings van
Drinks Coppola straight from the can
He keeps on misunderstanding what the plan is:

"Once you're stationed in the back
Kick in the doors, surprise attack
Shut your eyes, and shoot into the shack"

All your tiny particles
Add up to something beautiful
All these little building blocks
Created something high and hot

All your little sleight of hand
Means nothing to the science man
Who locked us in the hospital
And watches through the chemicals

Deep blue truths and glassy eyes
Little looks that pulverize
And the band slides into "Where Are You Tonight"
The only songs this singer sings
Are songs about his victim things
And no one ever loved him like you do
And now he's pointing right at you

'Cause all your little molecules
Add up to something drunk and cute
Computers, kits, and chemicals
The flowers and the fools

Little streets and Cream of Wheat
America runs on blistered feet
Coffee cups and doughnut shops
Depression and defeat

And all your little molecules
And all your little molecules
Add up to something beautiful

All your little molecules
Add up to something beautiful
Add up to something beautiful

Like flowers and the fruits
All your little molecules
Add up to something beautiful