The Fall - Paint Work lyrics
[The Fall - Paint Work lyrics]
We go two
Twice all the way round those things
Two high ones, two low ones, yeah right man
Man stopped us at corner
He had a bloody nose
And then he opened his denim jacket
It was under his vest made
Out of tracing paper
Chest scars portrayed Aztec life
In his horrible
Formation really late
Main sequence stars were no good for
Making carbon in this way red giant stars
Disfigured in a lady, tedious
Was over accountant's and on business
Then I woke up and I
Decided to recommence my diary
Then I read Paula Yates on vision mopeds
Then I found out we were not going to Italy
Later Mam said 'Those continentals
Are little monkeys'
And yesterday we had liver and sausage over
And sometimes they say 'Hey Mark
You're spoiling all the paintwork'
And sometimes they say 'Your thumbprints
Are on the paintwork'
Distractors, post doctors behind come in
Dressed in suit's, grow talons
Everyone clenched plait's horror
And sometimes they say
And sometimes I feel like saying
This is bloody Newark
Or some drive-in slap place
In Breda and in Cologne with the shirt (on
Off?) sun in vicinity
As if I hadn't done 10 month's service
In the USA on media guts
It circles is where I start
And sometimes they say
And I think if I'd wanted to live in Holland
And if I'd wanted to be lived in
I'd have packed up and pissed off
When I was 16 a this lousy business
Was the last thing I was ever imagining
Hey Mark, why can't I live in England?
(The end of shoes, all warehouse shoe
You've got
Cheap new one, the target is too yahoo
And take over all the desparate
I'll take over discussion and
Humanely regular colours over
Engineered oxidate zeppelin
Old world style, old man only juke box caught
All power jets on spectacular facets)
And sometimes they say
Hey, you're fucking up the paintwork
What is this thing they're
So hard-assed about?
I thought I lived in England
Twice all the way round those things
Two high ones, two low ones, yeah right man
Man stopped us at corner
He had a bloody nose
And then he opened his denim jacket
It was under his vest made
Out of tracing paper
Chest scars portrayed Aztec life
In his horrible
Formation really late
Main sequence stars were no good for
Making carbon in this way red giant stars
Disfigured in a lady, tedious
Was over accountant's and on business
Then I woke up and I
Decided to recommence my diary
Then I read Paula Yates on vision mopeds
Then I found out we were not going to Italy
Later Mam said 'Those continentals
Are little monkeys'
And yesterday we had liver and sausage over
And sometimes they say 'Hey Mark
You're spoiling all the paintwork'
And sometimes they say 'Your thumbprints
Are on the paintwork'
Distractors, post doctors behind come in
Dressed in suit's, grow talons
Everyone clenched plait's horror
And sometimes they say
And sometimes I feel like saying
This is bloody Newark
Or some drive-in slap place
In Breda and in Cologne with the shirt (on
Off?) sun in vicinity
As if I hadn't done 10 month's service
In the USA on media guts
It circles is where I start
And sometimes they say
And I think if I'd wanted to live in Holland
And if I'd wanted to be lived in
I'd have packed up and pissed off
When I was 16 a this lousy business
Was the last thing I was ever imagining
Hey Mark, why can't I live in England?
(The end of shoes, all warehouse shoe
You've got
Cheap new one, the target is too yahoo
And take over all the desparate
I'll take over discussion and
Humanely regular colours over
Engineered oxidate zeppelin
Old world style, old man only juke box caught
All power jets on spectacular facets)
And sometimes they say
Hey, you're fucking up the paintwork
What is this thing they're
So hard-assed about?
I thought I lived in England