Linotype Tarantella

She does the Linotype tarantella
She's my pomegranate Cinderella
Her fingertips are somewhat purple
From mimeographing flattened gerbils
At dawn she might regain some feeling
Cuz her cerebral cortex is healing

She does the Linotype tarantella
She's my pomegranate Cinderella
I do believe her pain's receding
And she's finally free of inner bleeding
A zeppelin moon is floating like a teardrop
And a harvest wagon's within earshot

She does the Linotype tarantella
She's my pomegranate Cinderella
She's got a feedback loop and a wet crop
I've got a lavalier mic and a dry mop

There's a cosmonaut in a tumbleweed town
Fallen rushes behind him and the enslaved ahead
Yuri Parsimonkov and his six-wheeled steed
Drives into the saloon and orders honey mead

The barkeep just won't serve him
Says he don't deserve him
Yuri gets riled and leaves

She wields a wooden spoon like a corsair
She wants to scrub your back with some horse hair
The feeling blooms like mad perfume
When she straddles you and rides off to nowhere

A woman so dense she could glow
Whenever he would want it
Her words she could write to his soul
With no paper on it



Credits
Writer(s): Frank Dipietro
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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