You Sound Like Louis Burdett

Had a little bit to drink
There's a little thing I want at a do out East, yeah
Now, nothing too emotional
My goodness
Couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife vibes
Stop talking 'bout the years
You sound like Louis Burdett

Now we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets
The weeks roll by
Roll by

I'm chewing icе and grinning
I'm spewing up and spinning
For Iz, it's bilious-usiness as usual in his corner of thе kitchen
Hey, you!, now, lose that friend before we go anywhere
What?, someone might see you alone?
Stop baggin' out the band
You sound like Louis Burdett

Yeah, and all my friends are fuck-ups, but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How down the streets, the weeks roll by
Roll by

The moment the night wears off, the bombsite reappears
They're all asleep, but the morning tastes like bile
It tastes so vile in Tempe
I feel so fucked I just might wake him up
Pat him on the bald head

Tell me about a dream, Louis
Something obscene, Louis
Your life's an open magazine, Louis

Now, I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub
Sex is everywhere, but nowhere 'round me, nowhere
By the time she gets to Marrickville, we'll be masturbating
Never rains in Tempe
The planes remind me of family money and the lack down here
Stop talking frustrated
'Cause I sound like Louis Burdett

Yeah, now we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets
The weeks roll by
Roll by

Yeah, and all my friends are fuck-ups, but they're fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah
How the weeks roll by

Now most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around
Tragedy like charity, begins at home
Now, Cass don't like madness
Oh, but madness likes him
He's got a finger in his chest
Oh, just saying how it should have been

Now, Mae Mae may make do
If you give the man a gram or two
If you're lucky enough to see him
Oh, if you're lucky enough that he made the trip down to see you
Ooh, that's Izzy
He's at his peak now, isn't he?
His key's fizzy, dizzy with something illicit he can't quite afford, but'll keep his mind busy

And Chel's taken some time off the Jim!
But surely not as much as it took off him
The well runs dry, he's poured it down the sink
Oh, just saying how it should have been

And Tee's beak's stuck in the middle of them all
He's caught a whiff of the peak, but he's scared of the fall
He's got it made the rock star
The talk of the town, but that don't mean shit in a town this small
And he's scared of nothing more than him
The raucousness in his head and its then-proceeding din
The hanged skeleton in his closet
The two fingers at his chin
All screaming how it should have been

Now we roll on to my back shed
Play some poker, scratch my head
Look at the sky and spot the planes
Where would I go on holidays?
Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets
The weeks roll by

My friends are completely fucked, but they're such fun to have around
Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars
How Geminis love wooden dragons
Oh, we're down the streets
The weeks roll by