Motorcades - Bell X1

You say I get a little nasty

You say I’m just showing off

In front of the visitors

You say I’m going

For cheap, cheap laughs

He’s my offstage prompter

It’s true he helps me connect

With my big Napoleon

I don’t know that that’s about

What’s that about?

We will receive you

In the good room

That still smells of Pledge

Pictures of our smiling faces

Stations of the cross

Of teeth and puberty

She cries at motorcades

She cries at motorcades

She cries at motorcades, she cries

Now before you start

I’m not making fun

People cry at the

Strangest things

Mine is the Venezuelan national anthem

So many deepest of feelings

So much emotional porn

Public declarations

Windy words that fill

The sails of empty vessels

She cries at motorcades

She cries at motorcades

She cries at motorcades, she cries

What is it that gets her?

Is it the strong arm of the state?

Little flags and outriders

Shiny gloves that part

The sea of the little people

Or is the getting from A to B?

Behind tinted windows

Carry the weight of the world

But it’s the least we can do

To ease your passage

Leave us in this

Blissful ignorance