调:G# minor
Verse 1
from the rays of the sun
the sweat run through my hair
peacock
I'm from a liquor store,
all away.
D
I feel so thin
and my skin would be a parachute
die, break a leg,
get an arm stuck in a tree,
I live in a caravan with no wheels
but freshly painted elevators,
up blues dress
E
C
D
fueled and fooled by expens
ive cheap red wine
for an overpriced
as my American wife writes it.
I drink vodka, crown apple and orange,
there's an orchestra
playing in my heart,
hmm, but there's a blues band in my head,
and all the drinks are free to them.
but my name's not on the guest list
and I'm banned anyway.
So I read Mr. Bukowski,
D
C
whose thoughts and body are older than mine,
yeah, so,
Set my drink, plan my next line,
scare the maids till the end of time.
Today I'll shoot thoughts
into the pit of lust
and just taste the lipstick
on borrowed cigarettes.
I can still remember
the reflection of her body.
s.
I'll love this girl with a passion for insanity,
grain and crime.
I'll love this girl
way past the end of our time.
The end, fin, there is no more.
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