Camper Van Beethoven

Camper Van Beethoven - All Her Favorite Fruit lyrics

Your rating:

And I always think of her
Well late at night I call her
But I never say a word
And I can see her squeeze the phone between her chin and shoulder
And I can almost smell her breath faint with a sweet scent of decay
She serves him mashed potatoes
And she serves him peppered steak, with corn
Pulls her dress up over her head
Lets it fall to the floor
And does she ever whisper in his ear all her favorite fruit
And all the most exotic places they are cultivated
And I'd like to take her there, rather than this train
And if I were a civil servant, I'd have a place in the colonies
We'd play croquet behind white-washed walls and drink our tea at four
Within interventions distance of the embassy
The midday air grows thicker with the heat
And drifts towards the line of trees
Where negroes blink their eyes, they sink into siesta
And we are rotting like a fruit underneath a rusting roof
We dream our dreams and sing our songs of love,  fecundity
Of life and love
        Of life and love
                Of life and love                -Camper Van Beethoven
_____________________________________________________________________________
Sleep: Columbae 206; Mail: PO Box 7295 Stanford, CA 94309; Phone 415.497.7354
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10113
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Pitch-A-Tent

Details:

Released in: 1989

Language: English

Appearing on: Key Lime Pie (1989)

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found