Текст (слова) песни: Brian Eno - Dead Finks Dont Talk

Oh cheeky cheeky

Oh naughty sneeky

Youre so perceptive and I wonder how you knew.

But these finks dont walk too well

A bad sense of direction

And so they stumble round in threes

Such a strange collection.

Oh you headless chicken

Can those poor teeth take so much kicking?

Youre always so charming

As you peck your way up there.

And these finks dont dress too well

No discrimination

To be a zombie all the time

Requires such dedication.

Oh please, sir will you let it go by

cos I failed both tests with my legs both tied

In my place the stuff is all there

Ive been ever so sad for a very long time

My my they wanted the works can you this and that

I never got a letter back

More fool me bless my soul

More fool me bless my soul.

Oh perfect masters

They thrive on disasters

They all look so harmless

Till they find there way up there.

But dead finks dont talk too well

Theyve got a shaky sense of diction

Its not so much a living hell

Its just a dying fiction.

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