Whitlams "You Sound Like Louis Burdett" |
Had a little bit to drink, There's a little thing I want at a do out East. Nothing too emotional, my good Miss, I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes. Stop talking 'bout the years - you sound like Louis Burdett And we roll on to my back shed, Play some poker, scratch my head Look at the sky and spot the planes Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches, down the aisles And down the streets the weeks roll by. I'm chewing ice and grinning I'm spewing up and spinning, It's billiousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen. Hey you, lose that friend, before we go anywhere What? Someone might see you alone? Stop baggin' out the band 'Cause you sound like Louis Burdett. And all my friends are fuck-ups But they're fun to have around Banana chairs out on the concrete, Tellin' stories to the stars How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeh, and how down the streets the weeks roll by The moment the night wears off The bombsite reappears. They're all asleep but the morning tastes like wine, it tastes like wine in Tempe I feel so good I, just might wake. him. up. Pat him on the bald head Tell me bout a dream, Louis Something obscene, Louis You're life's an open magazine Louis I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub Sex is everywhere, but nowhere 'round me (nowhere) By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating Never rains in Tempe but the planes remind of family money and the lack down here. Stop talking frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis Burdett And we roll on to my back shed, Play some poker, scratch my head Look at the sky and spot the planes Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches, down the aisles And down the streets the weeks roll by. And all my friends are fuck-ups But they're fun to have around Banana chairs out on the concrete, Tellin' stories to the stars How Geminis love wooden dragons and how the weeks roll by Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around. Terror, like charity, begins at home. Chris, don't like madness, but madness likes him. He's got a finger in his chest saying how it should have been. And we roll on to my back shed, Play some poker, scratch my head Look at the sky and spot the planes Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches, down the aisles And down the streets the weeks roll by. My friends are completely fucked, But theyre such fun to have around Banana chairs out on the concrete, Tellin' stories to the stars How Geminis love wooden dragons and how down the street the weeks roll by Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |