Letras

The rose is pruned to a perfect shape
Perfect for whom, I wonder
The chicken thinks in mysterious ways
But beauty is not what we're after

Now the chicken imagines a heaven
Full of roosters and plenty of corn
And God is a very old rooster
And eggs are like Jesus, his son

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Every day is a miracle
Every day is an unpaid bill
You've got to sing for your supper
Love one another

Cockroach might eat Mona Lisa
The pope don't mean shit to a dog
And elephants don't read newspapers
And the kiss of a chicken is hot

The brain of a chicken
And the dick of a donkey
A pig in a blanket
And that's why you want me

What does it feel like
To be your tongue
Moving around in your mouth?
To be free in the forest of your love
A cockroach in the cosmos of your house

Every day is a miracle
Every day is an unpaid bill
You've got to sing for your supper
Love one another

I'm a blond, a brunette, and a redhead
I thought up the birds and the bees
My software is famous all over
My money is growing on trees

The mind is a soft-boiled potato
A jewel in a chocolate shell
I staple my love to your heart, dear
With memories and beautiful smells

Every day is a miracle
Every day is an unpaid bill
You've got to sing for your supper
Love one another

Every day is a miracle
Every day is an unpaid bill
You've got to sing for your supper
Love one another

Writer(s): David Byrne, Brian Peter George Eno

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