Morticiachair

Now, let's talk about the time I had this morticiachair in my apartment

Right there in front of the living room as an open invitation to strangers
A cold machine might show
Smiling like a face, waiting for a telephone call, of a beloved feline
She is in a state and it's california
She's been there for quite a while

I've got no presents
I've got no presents

Drop the phone
Take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone
Take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone
Take the plane and come back home again

Drop the phone
Take the plane and come back home again
Drop the phone
Take the plane and come back home again

She knows where she rolls
When she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls
W,hen she goes for the doorknob

By the time of my second car crash I got totally wired
Like in the days I cut myself up with a razor-blade, oh nostalgia
Lost myself in so many ways I didn't know what to think of him
Ah, maybe I think to much, I don't think so

Fell madly in love with a couple of beautiful ears
It's only a variation
Had long and boring conversations about nothing
Talked so much I bored myself to death
And the more I talk, the more I turn into a vegetable
God I'm such a fool

She knows where she rolls
When she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls
When she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls
When she goes for the doorknob
She knows where she rolls
When she goes for the doorknob

Taste of orange, orange
Little christ
I'm in her bath-tub, consulted
Consulted
Consulted
Consulted

I'll behave won't you shame me
I'm into deep, won't you shame me
I'll behave won't you shame me
I'm into deep, won't you shame me
I'll behave won't you shame me
I'm into deep, won't you shame me
I'll behave won't you shame me
I'm into deep, won't you shame me

Information, information
I'm bored, bored
Information
Turn



Credits
Writer(s): Stefan Martha C. Carlens, Thomas Andrew Barman, Rudy Carlo S. Trouve, Julien De Borgher, Klaas Janssens
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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