Let's go get out in the street
Somebody's gotta
Let's get the stars to align
For lambs of slaughter
In the photographs
Their eyes make a signal path
And the feeling goes on and on and on and on and on
And on and on and on
Don't it feel like Friday night?
Cars are all lined up
Let it go push you around
Oh, what's it amount to?
Card sharks and street preachers want my soul
Up-sellers and palm readers want my soul
Post sermon socialites
Park chanters and skin-tights
All they want's my soul
Yeah, they want my soul
In the photographs
Your eyes make a signal path
And the feeling goes on and on and on and on and on
And on and on and on
Let's go lose track of time
Somebody's gotta
Let's get the stars to align
For lambs of slaughter
Educated folk singers want my soul
Jonathon Fisk, still he wants my soul
I got nothing I want to say to them
They got nothing, nothing I want
All they want's my soul
Yes, yes I know it
They want my soul
They want my soul, oh why
They want my soul, oh why
They want my soul, oh why
They want my soul
They Want My Soul Lyrics performed by Spoon are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that They Want My Soul Lyrics performed by Spoon is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD