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The Flaming Lips
The Flaming Lips


Background information
Origin Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States
Genre(s) Alternative Rock
Indie Rock
Neo-psychedelia
Space Rock
Experimental Rock
Years active 1983—present
Label(s) Restless Records
Associated acts Beck
Mercury Rev
Stardeath and White Dwarfs
Peaches
Steven Burns
Website Website
Members
Wayne Coyne
Michael Ivins
Steven Drozd
Kliph Scurlock
Former members
Ronald Jones
Jonathan Donahue
Mark Coyne
Dave Kostka
Richard English
Nathan Roberts
Jon Mooneyham



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  The Flaming Lips  →  Albums  →  Transmissions From The Satellite Heart

The Flaming Lips Album


Transmissions From The Satellite Heart (06/22/1993)
06/22/1993
1.
Turn It On
2.
Pilot Can At The Queer Of God
3.
Oh, My Pregnant Head
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Moth In The Incubator
9.
10.
11.
Slow Nerve Action
. . .

Turn It On

[No lyrics]

. . .

Pilot Can At The Queer Of God

[No lyrics]

. . .

Oh, My Pregnant Head

[No lyrics]

. . .


I know this girl who thinks of ghosts
She'll make you breakfast, she'll make you toast
But she don't use butter, and she don't use cheese
She don't use jelly or any of these
She uses Vaseline, Vaseline, Vaseline, Vaseline

I know a guy who goes to shows
When he's at home and he blows his nose
He don't use tissues or his sleeves
He don't use napkins or any of these
He uses magazines, magazines, magazines, magazines

I know a girl who reminds me of Cher
She's always changin' the color of her hair
She don't use nothin' you buy at the store
She likes her hair to be real orange
She uses tangerines, tangerines, tangerines
Tangerines, tangerines, tangerines

. . .


Hey
What were you thinking
When they were startin' the show
Yeah
I was there but I didn't care at all
I was trying to find you
When you got lost in the crowd
So drunk all the time
I'd like to hearing your voice

There was a guy
On the seat next to mine
Watching the girls
When the cops made us stand in line

Yeah
So if it's sad
Well, you still gotta live 'til you die
Man
Everyone's chewing the apple you've got in your eye
It's like at the circus
When you get lost in the crowd
You're happy but nervous
A definite sign that you've lost it

There was a guy
On the seat next to mine
Watching the girls
When the cops made us stand in line

. . .


Once in a while, the time will come
To surrender everything you have to give
Once in a while, the time will come
To surrender everything you have to give

I would have given up for you
I know they're gonna bump and collide
I'm sure there's planets wrapped up with you
I've seen them kissing out in the hallway

Once in a while, the zebras run
To the spaceman and his gun, in the spider's web
Once in a while, the zebras run
To the spaceman and his gun, in the spider's web

I would have given up for you
I know they're gonna bump and collide
I'm sure there's planets wrapped up with you
I've seen them kissing out in the hallway

. . .


You can be my head
Oh, I really need one
'cause it's used all its better days
You can be my head
'cause I've ruined this one
Blasting holes where it used to be

And if it's not a big thing,
You could swap or lend me
You should stop and ask me

Be my head, and I'll be yours (2x)

You can be my head
Oh, they've eaten this one
Putting swirls in this giant hole
You can be my head
'cause I can't afford to buy one
Seeking stars in its other side

And if it's not a big thing,
You could swap or lend me
You should stop and ask me

Be my head, and I'll be yours (2x)
Won't you be my head, and I'll be yours
Be my head and I'll be yours (3x)

. . .

Moth In The Incubator

[No lyrics]

. . .


I don't care if it rains or freezes
Long as I got my plastic Jesus
Sittin' on the dashboard of my car
Comes in colors, pink and pleasant
Glows in the dark, it's iridescent
Take it with you when you travel far
Get yourself a sweet madonna
Dressed in rhinestone, settin' on a
Pedestal of Abalone Shells
Goin' 90, I ain't scared
Cause I got the Virgin Mary
Assuring me that I won't go to hell

. . .


Stuck in the perpetual motion
Dying against the machine
The whole thing leaves
You a nothing instead of a these
The sun is black and the black halos fly
And your number is backwards again when you try
The sound is so cute when you're twenty-two
When you're twenty-two

Eggs break when you walk on the scramble
You're living against the machine
The whole thing leaves
You a nothing instead of a these
The bone is cracked and the cracked eggshells fly
And your number is backwards again when you drive
The whole thing's removed when you're twenty-two
When you're twenty-two

. . .

Slow Nerve Action

[No lyrics]

. . .


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