Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally is a medley of songs by the artist Will Wood.
The medley is a combination of multiple tracks from Will Wood’s album “The Real Will Wood and The Tapeworms.”
Suburbia Overture serves as an introduction to the medley, setting the tone and building anticipation for what’s to come.
It typically features a mix of instruments, including piano, strings, and percussion, creating a dramatic and theatrical atmosphere.
Also Watch: Strip It Down Lyrics
Greetings from Mary Bell Township! is a lively and energetic song that combines elements of rock, punk, and cabaret.
Suburbia Overture Lyrics showcase Will Wood’s unique vocal style, which is often characterized by theatricality, intensity, and a touch of eccentricity.
The Suburbia Overture Lyrics often feature dark humor and storytelling, capturing the listener’s attention with their vivid and imaginative imagery.
Suburbia Overture Lyrics delves into a more introspective and introspective theme.
It addresses issues of identity, self-reflection, and societal pressures. The Suburbia Overture Lyrics explores the idea of feeling like an outsider and the struggle to fit into societal norms.
Musically, it blends elements of alternative rock with orchestral and experimental touches, creating a dynamic and layered sound.
Love Me, Normally provides a contrasting tone to the medley, presenting a softer and more introspective side of Will Wood’s music.
It is a heartfelt and melancholic ballad that showcases Wood’s vulnerability and emotional depth. The song’s lyrics revolve around themes of love, longing, and the desire to be understood.
Suburbia Overture Lyrics
White picket fences
Barbed wire and trenches
Trick or treat. Merry Christmas
Howdy neighbor. Thank you Jesus
What is he building in that painted lady
A participation trophy wife or blonde, blue-eyed baby
Wide-eyed and wired
The snap-crackle-pop of the Geiger
Camouflage billboards for lead-lined Brooks Brothers
You elbow the jukebox and sing “Duck and Cover”
And breed out our incisors, feed on white wine and Pfizer
It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die
Suburbia
You’re not alone
The lights are on
But no one’s home
So, welcome home
Meyers-Briggs, OK-ULTRA
Takes a village to fake a whole culture
Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball
Your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall
Home is where the heart is
You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless
It’s the safest on the market
But you still gotta watch where you park it
So give me your half-life crisis
I can tell that you know where paradise is
Where parasites don’t care what your blood type is
Only pheromones and serotonin decide
If it’s true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard
Everyone knows that nobody knows that
Everybody’s all up in my, everybody’s all up in my
Everybody’s all up in my business
Suburbia
Where you belong
The lights are on
But no one’s home
So, welcome home
Chameleon peacocks are talk of the town
Well word gets around on
Hit Number Stations
He comes radiation
The dog bites the postman while basement eyes dream
Of a night at the drive-in with an AR-15
I dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails
I caught Kuru from your sister and died laughing in jail
Smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on the 4th of July grill
Smile and wave, boys. Kiss the cook
Live laugh and love. Please pass the pills
It’s only culture. It’s only culture
It’s only culture – sulfur, smoke, and soot
You learned to torture house cats. Like vultures
You cocked and sucked your lack of empathy
Pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you’ve got
Blood. Didn’t they want your blood
So why apologize for being blue and cold
Blood. Didn’t they want your blood
So don’t apologize for being blue and cold
It’s only culture. It’s only culture. It’s only
Culture’s not your friend
Hey, fuck your culture. I ain’t got no culture
It’s only culture, and it’s more afraid of you than you are of it
Go on, drink that
Blood. Didn’t they want your blood
So why apologize when you turn blue and cold
Blood. Didn’t they want your blood
So don’t apologize for being blue and cold
Were you Nabokov to a Salinger
Were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary
Were you mother, daughter, subject, and author
You don’t make the rules, you just write them down and
Do it by the book you throw around
Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn
Going against the grain and catching splinters
You pull out your Rorschach like a paint-by-numbers treasure map
The ink upon on your jigsaw piece traces you back to your fingerprints
Well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and I guess you’ll too, and die
The Lord looked down, said, “hey, you’re only mortal”
Giveth and taketh away ’till things come out a certain way
Leave you wondering when they might go back to normal
Leave you wondering why they can’t have just been normal
