Seems like we're still in the kitchen A pease-broth brought to boil Stuck in a terminal stir Chucking it all in the air But the sky don't throw it back No the sky don't throw it back Sun's face is oil, sun's face is black Sun's face is oil, sun's face is oil What is it weighs on your brain-box? Is it the closeness of weather? Or are you allergic to garbage? Hankering after escape routes Everyone's frantically cooking Everyone's frantically cooking Sun's face is oil, sun's face is black Sun's face is oil, sun's face is black Big Pot Big Pot Big Pot Big Pot Measured per metre, we're done for Cubits of dross upon each head Measured per metre, we're done for Cubits of dross upon each head I'm wearing a hat That reaches through ozone I'm wearing a hat That reaches through ozone I'm wearing a hat That reaches through ozone I'm wearing a hat That reaches through ozone