Psychic

So the psychic on the lower east side

The Pakistani woman with the pretty green eyes

She said its time to choose

Too late to hide

She says you’ve got to choose

Choose between lies

Or you can choose truth

But you’ve got to decide which feels better

When it’s next to you

Right by your side

You gotta choose truth

Or you gotta choose lies

It’s been paid for in spades

And drinks at the bar

Paid for in feathers

Feathers and tar

Look out the window broken glass in the yard

You think that’s what happens when you let down your guard

But things just happen, things fall apart

Not all of the king’s men have to depart

When things get dicey

There’s an open heart

Not all the king’s men have to depart 

It’s not your husband’s move or his hired hand

He uses whips on the horses

He’s that kind of man

You pretend he whispers

So you don’t take a stand

But there are scars on the flanks

They look like fans

The horses are scared

Their eyes roll white

They ever get loose

They get loose some night

They ever get loose

They’ll be gone by light

The horses are scared

Their eyes roll white 

So the Pakistani woman, the lower east side

She's the psychic with the pretty green eyes

She said  time to choose

Too late to hide 

She says you’ve got to choose

Choose between lies

Or you can choose truth

But you’ve got to decide which feels better

When it’s next to you

Right by your side

You gotta choose truth

Or you gotta choose lies

You gotta choose truth

Or you gotta choose lies