Call him Mr. Carbon Copy
King of all the double people
He's an echo, a reflection
Nobody you'd want to be
Living among the bodysnatchers
Making sets of matching people
Piling up the body doubles
He has everything he needs
Tired of turning blood into bourbon
Bones into ashes, mountains of glasses
Shatter them all and start again
Ya ya ya
Tired of turning slowly suburban
While memory passes from base to acid
Erase the tape and start again
Call him Mr. Carbon Copy
King of all the double people
He's an echo, a reflection
Nobody you'd want to be
Following Mr. Carbon Copy
Echoing his every order
We are only blurry copies…
