bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
|
I reckon if I touch it might just burn
|
flesh-heads like me just wax and melt
|
when my tongue touches titty's tongue in turn
|
sometimes pleasure heads must burn
|
bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
my brain tricked my hands to believe they were strong
|
in short, my hands became clubs to grind
|
I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
|
kiss me darling, kiss my eyes to blind
|
kiss my clubs and witness what my knuckles find
|
bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
I feel a little low, you know what I mean?
|
buried neck-high in British snow
|
I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
|
shoot me darling, shoot me in the head and go
|
ya! ya! teeth gone. follow my trail back home.
|
ya! ya! teeth gone. follow my trail back home.
|
ya! ya! bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
|
etcetera.
|
|
-----------------
|
PLEASURE HEADS MUST BURN
|
| The Birthday Party |
