A Wolf At The Door

Radiohead

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    Drag him out the window
    Dragging out your dead
    Singing I miss you
    Snakes and ladders
    Flip the lid
    Out pops the cracker
    Smacks you in the head
    Knifes you in the neck
    Kicks you in the teeth
    Steel toe caps
    Takes all your credit cards
    Get up, get the gunge
    Get the eggs
    Get the flan in the face
    The flan in the face
    The flan in the face
    Dance, you fucker, dance, you fucker
    Don't you dare, don't you dare
    Don't you, flan in the face
    Take it with the love it's given
    Take it with a pinch of salt
    Take it to the taxman
    Let me back, let me back
    I promise to be good
    Don't look in the mirror
    At the face you don't recognize
    Help me, call the doctor, put me inside
    Put me inside, put me inside
    Put me inside, put me inside

    I keep the wolf from the door, but he calls me up
    Calls me on the phone, tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up
    Steal all my children if I don't pay the ransom
    And I'll never see them again if I squeal to the cops

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    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
    No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

    Walking like a giant cranes and with my X-ray eyes
    I strip you naked in a tight little world, and are you on the list?
    Stepford wives, who are we to complain?
    Investments and dealers, investments and dealers
    Cold wives and mistresses
    Cold wives and Sunday papers
    City boys in First Class
    Don't know we're born, just know
    Someone else is gonna come and clean it up
    Born and raised for the job
    Someone always does
    Oh, I wish you'd get up
    Get over, get up, go over and turn this tape off

    I keep the wolf from the door, but he calls me up
    Calls me on the phone, tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up
    Steal all my children if I don't pay the ransom
    And I'll never see them again if I squeal to the cops
    So I'm just gonna

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Thom Yorke, Edward O Brien, Colin Greenwood, Jonny Greenwood y Philip Selway

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