FICTION - Spit Polish

Yeh, when you don't know what you're talkin' about 
When you're clutching at the straws, 
When you need a little collaboration 
To get your sweaty hands in her drawers 

You need a little a fiction baby 
A little East European trip 
A little fiction man 
Get your head out of the shit, hey 

Dig that boy, get that husky throat 
And that Bloody Mary smile 
And the girl with the lines beneath her eyelids 
Just servin' for a poetic crime 

They got fiction baby 
Go to the back of the bus 
We got fiction man 
Now tell me who do I trust? 
Oh go 

Ah, quit it

This country used to warm my chest 
A memory like a fur-lined coat 
But the living-room racists and couch bum potatoes 
Got me scrubbing up in the dust 

And I swallowed it up as if it was enough 
To keep glycerine eatin’the fully sweet
But the nerves in my gut were saying something was up 
And now keepin’ my eyes from my feet 

Oh so this Christmas time say your prayers for peace 
And believe there’s only one source for this shit so deep 
You build your walls up high enough 
And lifestyle TV when the going gets tough 

They're throwing kids in the drink - right! 
A little fiction baby 
A lie ‘n’ a black hole! 

Bring it on, haahh 
Bring it on, haahh, ho