Deus
Morticiachair lyrics
Songwriters: Barman; Carlens; Trouve
Now, let's talk about the time I had this morticiachair in my apartment
Right there in front of the living room as an open invitation to strangers a cold machine
Might show Smiling like a face, waiting for a telephone call, of a beloved feline
She is in a state and it's California, she's been there for quite a while
I've got no presents, I've got no presents
Drop the phone, take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone, take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone, take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone, take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone, take the plane and come back home again
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
By the time of my second car crash I got totally wired
Like in the days I cut myself up with a razor-blade, oh nostalgia
Lost myself in so many ways I didn't know what to think of him
Ah, maybe I think to much, I don't think so
Fell madly in love with a couple of beautiful ears
It's only a variation
Had long and boring conversations about nothing
Talked so much I bored myself to death
And the more I talk, the more I turn into a vegetable
God I'm such a fool
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
I'll behave won't you shame me, I'm into deep, won't you shame me
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
I'll behave won't you shame me, I'm into deep, won't you shame me
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
Taste of orange, orange, little Christ
I'm in her bath-tub, consulted
Consulted, consulted, consulted
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
I'll behave won't you shame me, I'm into deep, won't you shame me
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
I'll behave won't you shame me, I'm into deep, won't you shame me
She knows where she rolls when she goes for the doorknob
Information, information
I'm bored, bored
Information
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Morticiachair lyrics © Great American Nude
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