Special Delivery by Peter Blegvad Lyrics
Everyone's too nice to me, the way Vincent Price would be
With midnight coming on
They say everything twice to me, they look me in the eye and say
We love you like a son (we love you like a son)
But it's just sinister diplomacy, and anyone with eyes can see
They're leading me on
Oh, soon it will come: Special delivery!
Though there's nothing to deliver me from
And everything in life could be a cutting edge or a knife
So we'd better watch our eyes
Through pinholes in the meat we see portions of eternity
That go unrecognized
While our cells obey biology and do what we do endlessly:
The great divide
Oh, soon it will come: Special delivery!
Though there's nothing to deliver me from
(Delivered in an unknown tongue)
The king protects his subjects, drawing all his strength from objects
We pay for with our blood
And the prince is a catastrophe, but only cos he's asked to be
He's bad for the public good
The old moth-eaten monarchy, the cretinous aristocracy
Nostalgia for the mud
Oh, soon it will come (What's gonna come?)
Sight to the blind! (Oh, sure)
Conversation to the dumb
And courage to the cowardly
Sensation to the numb!
With midnight coming on
They say everything twice to me, they look me in the eye and say
We love you like a son (we love you like a son)
But it's just sinister diplomacy, and anyone with eyes can see
They're leading me on
Oh, soon it will come: Special delivery!
Though there's nothing to deliver me from
And everything in life could be a cutting edge or a knife
So we'd better watch our eyes
Through pinholes in the meat we see portions of eternity
That go unrecognized
While our cells obey biology and do what we do endlessly:
The great divide
Oh, soon it will come: Special delivery!
Though there's nothing to deliver me from
(Delivered in an unknown tongue)
The king protects his subjects, drawing all his strength from objects
We pay for with our blood
And the prince is a catastrophe, but only cos he's asked to be
He's bad for the public good
The old moth-eaten monarchy, the cretinous aristocracy
Nostalgia for the mud
Oh, soon it will come (What's gonna come?)
Sight to the blind! (Oh, sure)
Conversation to the dumb
And courage to the cowardly
Sensation to the numb!