Trip
Trip - Summer Sundays lyrics
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Break out the take out It's ten past eight now I swear the weather-man just said my name out My beds covered in red wine stains and She's got kind off a meg ryan face to her Search for my pen and pull out my rhyme book Perch on the bed and add a few lines to it She pulls me near and kisses me with sour breath Whispering in my ear something 'bout the shower-head This is like when Clarence and Alabama met True romance that happened in a nano-sec Broken curtain rails and chairs knocked over And up the stairs I spy a trail of clothes I Lie on my pillow exhale the smoke why Open the window when the sex smells dope and Off back to sleep she goes I was wrong she looks more like a blonde Catherine Zeta-Jones At last we picked a spot Summer Sundays where the sun stays out past six o clock She sun bathes I sit and watch her and some days She looks in some ways like a... So the airs rich with drink and perfume My English version of Ingrid Bergman I'm certain when I fall asleep she's Rita Hayworth But when I wake up she's Elizabeth Taylor She's Jessica Rabbit, she's double any bond girl She's Bridget Bardot she's Marylyn Monroe But the fact is though that's not why I fell for her 'Cos no actress can act like she acts like herself At last we picked a spot Summer Sundays where the sun stays out past six o clock She sunbathes I sit and watch her And some days she looks in some ways like a...