The imitation picks you up like a habit
Writing in the glow of the TV's static
Taking out the trash to the man
Give the people something they'd understand
A stick man flashing a fine-lined smile
Junk bond trader trying to sell a sucker a stock
Rich man in a poor man's clothes
The permanent installment of the daily dose

And you tell off when you tell it like it is
Your world's no wider than your hatred of his
Check into a small reality
Boring as a drug you take too regularly
The athlete's laugh, the broken crutch
The first true love that folded at the slightest touch
Brought down like an old hotel
People digging through rubble for things they can resell

Happy holidays, sad sick savior
The leaving lover that I still favor
I won't take your medicine, I don't need a remedy
To be everything I'm supposed to be
I don't want nobody else, I can do it by myself
We're meant to be together
Oh, oh

Now I'm a policeman directing traffic
Keeping everything moving, everything static
I'm a hitchhiker you'll recognize passing
On your way to some everlasting

Better sell it while you can
Better sell it while you can
Better sell it while you can
Better sell it while you can


Lyrics submitted by thoraxcorp, edited by Mellow_Harsher

Junk Bond Trader Lyrics as written by Steven Paul Smith

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Junk Bond Trader (Early version) song meanings
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    General Comment

    heart palpitations

    tabblynnon January 26, 2012   Link

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