[ Featuring
Stephen Malkmus, the Jicks ]
Wicked, wicked Wanda
What was it that spawned ya
Who's responsible for your trash
A pretty little spider
With Hollywood in inside her
And no time to accommodate
A chicken scratch
A bare ass back
I never
Avoid your screams
A paralyzed dream
Forever
Wicked, wicked Wanda
I'd rather date Rwanda
Then be involved in your moral trap
A pretty little spider
With Hollywood inside her
And no time to accommodate
There no kicks
One night jig
A feather
The basement screams
Apparent to me
Forever
To free of doubt and longing
Simple clarity, belonging
In a role untouched by history
To be art of something vaster
Then yourself, the frozen plaster
Breakout of your core categories
Strike...me square
Into the arms of the air
Strike...me square
Into the arms of the air
Stories not reality
I feel like a junk contraption
Truth is, I can't shake this vile fear
When I space out I'm direct
I've got the week or to reflect with
Free to be a temperamental tear
Strike...me square
Into the arms of the air
Strike...me square
Into the arms of the air