1. |
Black Dress
03:46
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who gives a damn about your Barcelonian binges?
your man, he took you to Paris and cheated in Venice.
you gotta give yourself away to live
a world class rower learned it as your bedmate
but he drives a Porsche and he brought some gin
and a Joy Division seven-inch.
you'd never miss it
you gotta love someone to love yourself
these one-night-stands are not enough
to get you by so you search for a different type
and you put yourself in situations
scandalous and dangerous
it's obvious that this won't get you by
who gives a damn about Lord Byron, you're gonna forget him
you're gonna take care of him after class and I'll miss it
you gotta give yourself away to live:
a French professor hiding in your closet
but he has a knack for poetry
and he always brings the opiates
you'd never miss it
you gotta love someone to love yourself
these one-night-stands are not enough
to get you by so you search for a different type
and you put yourself in situations
scandalous and dangerous
it's obvious that this won't get you by
i met you on the terrace wall
you shed your skin
you're slow to crawl to undeserving arms
while I go unnoticed
it's hard to catch you in a fall
and hard to fall in love at all
your vices grow too strong
and i go unnoticed
but who gives a damn about your heart?
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2. |
Sick Girls
02:37
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i caught you running at the mouth when you're onto me
and all the friends that you got are bent on taunting me
and everybody wonders why i'm a machine
i'm a clean machine at least
so do you offer to go down on every single one
on your phone do they fall are they all aware
that you're just a bored by the numbers with a mental disease it's at your expense at least...
...and i don't care if you're just having fun, cause your love is torture to
everyone you touch
i wonder if your father knows he raised a tease
i think i'll forward every forward-thinking man your plea
and maybe then you'll pretend that you're the same as me in flesh and blood at least
how could i ever open up my heart when all
of the girls they just use every opportunity
to make light of me from across the country
it's a silly state you see
and i don't want to see you again
in fact just stay where it fits i'm over it
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3. |
Warhol
03:35
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your friends are modern lazy lovers
caught in their artifacts
and no amount of man's compassion
will ever bring them back
they're under pressure
and if a heart attack is not enough
to say i love you
i might put powder in my brain waves
so i can train with them to learn the things you love
thank god it was
i may have strained
let the vanity catch me on my way home
so leave your looks at the door
and douse them until i say
we're under pressure
"we're gonna bring andy warhol back
'cause he deserves a drink"
i said "we're gonna bring andy warhol back
'cause he deserves a drink"
he's under pressure
and who's so high as the company judge us
on our way on
a thin minerva let the energy drown us
while we sing
we're under pressure
...and all of the faces that you've seen
they make me cower from beneath
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4. |
Heroin
03:12
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your professional life does nothing for your nervousness
when you see specimen at bars that you wanna kiss
and every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
you got a trunk full of battery acid for experiments
but you can never seal the deal with the one you miss
and every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
you got ten thousand dollars stashed in a hotel bed
but you would rather sleep alone in your Mercedes Benz
but that's ok I guess
and I still with you the best
but you gotta understand
that I don't want your heroin
every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
every time I see you you try to sell me heroin
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5. |
Hush My Bones
03:52
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Yours is a calculated veil to hide this week’s betrayal.
You’re ephemeral, your touch will poison all.
You take bad vibrations and store them deep within your chest.
The blood is boiling cold in your poisoned pulse.
But it’s alright.
I never thought that we would be alright, despite your slight of hand.
It’s all fine despite your eyes against me all night.
I’m just an unfamiliar thread in a mess of crimson hair.
If your scarf will fall, to the sheets we’re called.
And if I fall astray and follow all of the crooked daggers you own
will you lead me home so I can hush my bones?
I’m the Salinger to your Vonnegut.
You’ve got English acrobatics when you talk, but I don’t talk.
I can trust as much as your pointy shoes.
You’re not manic when you’re static so you walk, but I won’t walk.
It’s alright.
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