Heavens to Betsy Follow

For what can be done for yourself
The in respect then out will cling itself
To seeming hopefuls

Now we sing on a bridge for your own half
Heavens to purgatory
Gadzooks, gadzooks, gadzooks
What have you got to lose?

What you are is fast, the glance and telephone
Ring those portable sling
Deal with foggy folds you are here
Without consent except for your own

Records of our discontentment
Will but purge since one has found it
Awfully hard to keep a grimace
Voltage from another's counting

We're such plants, oxygen, xylem, phloem
In the wrists, pumps to the greed of your delusion
To a blind knowledge of sight from fall
Chosen from spring

Records of our discontentment
Will but purge since one has found it
Awfully hard to keep a grimace
Voltage from another's counting

For what can be done for yourself
The in respect then out will cling itself