Snakes in the grass
The essex greenOh, I can't, it's nothing I've known
Signing shapes in the moonlight, keeping the laughter low (please tell me what's going on)
Oh, I can't, it's convoluted
A change of mind to day for certain
I know the book, I think I wrote it
The author's dead, it's fiction
One, oh, one
Seething snakes in the grass, snakes in our own backyard (everyone's on the telephone)
I'll be sure to overhear them
Enter loping in latin, the altar boys all know (please tell me what's going on)
Oh, I can't, it's convoluted
A change of mind to day for certain
I know the book, I think I wrote it
The author's dead, it's fiction
So go ahead eight times a day
So go ahead and tell me what you want
Two keys twisted and turned, stalking our own front door (please tell me what's going on)
Oh, I can't, it's nothing I've known
Leaving notes in the carpet, reading them on the floor (please tell me what's going on)
Oh, I can't, it's convoluted
A change of mind to day for certain
I know the book, I think I wrote it
The author's dead, the author's dead it's fiction
I can't, I can't, it's convoluted
A change of mind to day for certain
I know the book, I think I wrote it
The author's dead, it's fiction
One, oh, one