Saigon Market

Josef Lucas was a friend of mine He never loaded an Econoline He drove a dented Ford jalopy With plates from Albuquerque And arrived when it felt alright Build it up Break it down And take it Back home to Saigon Market Spin it up Smoke it down Because Aliens never die They go home Back home to Saigon Market Josef Lucas was a psychopath And a reliable one at that He took the silence in a room as an obvious cue to tell us that most planes are haunted What's it mean? No one knows Except the Tom Sawyer of Telegraph Spin it up Smoke it down Because Aliens never die They go home Back home to Saigon Market Cuz theres a fire in the attic And the block is apathetic To the big noise Big noise Spilling out Its just another day in the neighborhood Cuz theres a fucked up synthesizer Making all of that clatter The sound is so confusing That the cops won't even bother Shiny things aren't always gold Take me home Back home to Saigon Market Take me home Take Me Home Who knows what tomorrow brings Who knows how the past looks in light Who knows if this place will remember F*ck days man, it's all about nights So build it up Break it down And take it Back home to Saigon Market Spin it up Smoke it down Because Aliens never die They go home Aliens never die They go home Aliens never die They go home Back home to Saigon Market Take me home Take me home Take me home Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine Josef Lucas was a friend of mine