Goon's selling me on making warms out of sand
Said he had an angle, could he land a hand?
I said, wouldn't that be nice?
Last time I saw him,
he was mopping up the paradise
Not enough action
Jogging down,
blood,
you've got a thing or two to say
About the way you sing and play,
pushing you up on the stage
Poor little puppet,
gonna find yourself inside a cage
You're up in traction,
but it's a shame
That the
wolves get the blame
Too much talk,
not enough action
And not enough.
Slappered limelighter waiting in the dark.
Screaming for the moment when she makes her mark.
Footprints cross on violet walls.
Thirst and searation left in darkened halls.
Sleepless action.
Round, broad right feet like getting rough.
Lights to top a little but it's not enough.
Pushing you back off the stage.
Poor little puppet gonna find yourself inside a cave.
You're up in traction.
But it's a shame.
That the world's getting to blame.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
And not enough.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
Not enough
action.
To my song.
Not enough action.
To my song.
And not enough action.
To my song.