Go ahead and eat your death
|
Lick your lips and see what fruit bears
|
It¡¯s your mouth, it¡¯s your throat, it¡¯s your belly
|
What¡¯s it to me, you seem happy
|
To blindly toss those apple seeds
|
Of vile discourse and the flit and the spit and the bile, all the while
|
|
It serves you right, it serves you right
|
To take your clothes off by the hearthside, then join me bedside
|
Where the houses are eating their owners
|
Yeah, it serves you right, it serves you right
|
¡®Cause god forbid you ever let me inside, or there within
|
Heaven forbid you¡¯d show your underbelly
|
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So go ahead, hold your breath
|
Be my guest, and see if I care
|
¡®Cause it¡¯s your life, it¡¯s your body in the morning
|
What¡¯s it to you, my sweet bijou
|
¡®Cause if you knew what was good for you,
|
You¡¯d stand there lowborn to drop every rampart and drawbridge
|
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So save your breath for cooling your tea and your porridge
|
|
So help yourself, it¡¯s okay
|
¡®Cause if this gets you through the night
|
Well then hey, hey it¡¯s your night, and it¡¯s your right, it ain¡¯t my business
|
Red vein your nose with cheap cologne
|
And let¡¯s slither out of these filthy clothes
|
And dust you off, send you off, get you breathing
|
|
And I don¡¯t wear my safety belt
|
And I don¡¯t watch my ass when I¡¯m by myself
|
And I sleep like a baby with candles burning
|
And I skip down dark alley lots
|
And I don¡¯t look both ways before I cross the street
|
Or my heart or my fingers and my fingers say
|
|
It serves you right, it serves you right
|
¡®Cause if it makes you feel a tiny bit warmer reside by the torch light
|
With the outright crass indistinction
|
And it serves you right, it serves you right
|
¡®Cause god forbid you ever let me inside or there within
|
Heaven forbid you give a good god good evening
|
|
So go ahead, hold your breath
|
Be my guest, see if I care
|
¡®Cause it¡¯s your life, it¡¯s your face in the place of the mirror
|
And here¡¯s to you, merci beaucoup
|
But wait till I get my hands on you
|
That¡¯s all what you will get ? a bear hug from your armless brother
|
|
So save your teeth for the toothy grins to your mother
|
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Yeah, go ahead, please yourself
|
Wring your hands, throttle best-laid plans
|
They¡¯re alive, they¡¯re a bishop, a loose leaf, a bottle
|
I come to hear my neighbors¡¯ thoughts
|
So I will saunter down this hallway dark
|
I¡¯m alive, I¡¯m alive, I¡¯m alive, god willing, I¡¯m alive
|
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-----------------
|
Wait Until I Get my Hands on You
|
| The Paper Chase |
