Текст песни: Underworld. Oblivion With Bells. Faxed Invitation.
I don't wanna get dirty
with two scoops
and white flakes and jelly
wrestling would you do it
would you do it
go down with the body
hugger stroking
clutches caressing
on the corner lip to lip
black and blond chocolate eye
I don't wanna get dirty
with two scoops
and white flakes and jelly
wrestling would you do it
would you do it
go down with the body
hugger stroking
clutches caressing
on the corner lip to lip
black and blond chocolate eye
fundamental
looking up at me
your olive skin
your unmarked beauty unconnected
I don't feel the heat of you
like you want me to
up close and smiling
no seperate bills
she's fantastic
so fantastic like this
this is a catsuit of fifteen colours
faxed invitation
to oblivion with bells
technicolour delights
someone pushing
don't knock, push
honey honey pure twisted
squeeze your libido
....
I feel so disconnected
you smile
you give me everything
this one cold, this one hot
purple head burning fast (?)
water
deep voice, dome head
shooting behind the glass eyes
and walking on the piss stains on a beautiful day
craving company and legs
look around you
you look good to me
i see you in an alley shop
and clean and focus like a hope
when he smoked a cigarette
looking away smelling something surgical
that leaves a mark upon his neck
where the place where you were talking
when you looked so upset
why were you hiding
when I saw you in an alley shop
and clean like a hope
I want someone pretty to give me time
mmmm pretty and fit, smelling good
an unknown lie
animal calling
hungry eye
change the way I feel, on a wheel
and (bang?) jesus loves me on a yellow xylophone
going home
outside you look at me with your brown eyes
lest we forget
angel at the hotel
sudden fiction/friction (?)....?
I was born with a cartoon eye
and a savioury style
very strong feeling (of) freedom, liberty
mmmm deep voice
mmmm deep voice
mmmm deep voice
(Thanks to Charleigh for these lyrics)
Underworld
Oblivion With Bells
Underworld
Другие исполнители
Популярные запросы