A monk with a hard-on. And a lavender robe. That scratches his thighs. Through the hat that he strode. As he follows a path. Filled with every desire.
For all that it cost him. He never did complain. The chicken headed man. Feathering the rain. . But the last bus is tired. And everybody's gone. The horses are waiting.
Maybe you want another world. One where heaven doesn't weigh so much. Maybe you'll find another girl. One you can feel when you do not touch. Well I've got something.
Maybe you want another world. One where heaven doesn't weigh so much. Maybe you'll find another girl. One you can feel when you do not touch. . Well I've got something.
Maybe you want another world. One where heaven doesn't weigh so much. Maybe you'll find another girl. One you can feel when you do not touch. . Well I've got something.
A monk with a hard-on in a lavender robe. That scratches his thighs for the height that he strove. As he follows a path filled with arid desire. That mimics his footsteps and sets his prayers on fire.
All the gang has gone home. Standing on the corner. All alone. . So you and me, streetlight. We'll paint the town gray. Oh, we are so many lamps. Who have lost our way.
There is a tree on Allenford. I drive by it each day on my way to and from work. And there are always flowers left there each day. Left for a child who died there.
Take the train, oh, you have run. As far as you can go. They've tied your fingers to rails of stars. But can you hear the whistle blow?. . There is no one here to beat out your brains.
Oh, he's a lucky guy, oh, he's a lucky guy. He doesn't worry about me when I'm gone. He goes to sleep at night, he don't turn off the light. Wonder how to find me, if I'm alone.
I know what it takes to be loved by you. Talk like you talk. Think like you do. You never were human so. How could you know?. We fall so hard, we can't let go.