Song | Rats and Rats and Rats for Candy |
Artist | The Blood Brothers |
Album | Crimes |
作曲 : Blood Brothers | |
Mr. Howell: The dinner was fine until she opened her mouth. | |
Oh, Candy! Oh, Candy! Behind her teeth 15 rats started screaming and sobbing. | |
Candy girl! Candy girl! | |
When we were kissing in the car | |
those rodents smoked cigars in her throat, blowing smoke. | |
(You turn on the lights and look a bit closer... | |
there's shutters on her eyes, there's a door on her thigh.) | |
Candy: These rats are not living inside my hotel face. | |
They're just sick and they need a bed lined with fine lace. | |
Mr. Howell: You know that pity's got an ugly price tag. | |
Rats: Our fur feels like it's on fire. There's thorns growing on our bones. | |
Our hunger is x-rated. | |
Oh, mother, we love you so! | |
(Candy invites you upstairs, you say it's getting awfully late, | |
but she yanks your hand through the door. | |
Her clothes fall off and she presses into you. | |
But those rats have chewed a hole straight through | |
her navel and nipple.) | |
Mr. Howell: Oh, Candy. I've got to go. | |
Candy: Oh, won't you stay the night with me Mr. Howell! | |
These rats are not living inside my hotel face. | |
They're just sick and need a bed lined with fine lace. | |
Mr. Howell: You know that pity's got an ugly price tag. (x2) | |
Rats: Our muscles have turned to cement. | |
We're coughing up needles and nails. | |
Our veins are flowing barbed wire. | |
Oh, mother, we are so frail! but wait! | |
We've got a trick for him. | |
We twist tears into shit eaten grins. | |
(When you wake up in the morning you find yourself alone in | |
Candy's bed. And everything is gone: paintings, jewels, songs. | |
Candy's blowing in the breeze; those rats devoured her up in her sleep. | |
Her skin's tied to the bed post like a flag on a ship of ghosts. | |
You read the letter on the dresser; the sick brown sun rubbing in your soul). | |
Reading letter: Oh, mother, you should have known. | |
You should have seen through our fake broken bones. | |
Our tears that we razor-sharpened were calculated to rob you blind. | |
Mr. Howell: Three weeks later from that day, | |
I saw those rats on a bicycle. | |
They crept by me and started balling, | |
their eyes turned to icicles. | |
Crying, "We need a vacancy!" |
zuò qǔ : Blood Brothers | |
Mr. Howell: The dinner was fine until she opened her mouth. | |
Oh, Candy! Oh, Candy! Behind her teeth 15 rats started screaming and sobbing. | |
Candy girl! Candy girl! | |
When we were kissing in the car | |
those rodents smoked cigars in her throat, blowing smoke. | |
You turn on the lights and look a bit closer... | |
there' s shutters on her eyes, there' s a door on her thigh. | |
Candy: These rats are not living inside my hotel face. | |
They' re just sick and they need a bed lined with fine lace. | |
Mr. Howell: You know that pity' s got an ugly price tag. | |
Rats: Our fur feels like it' s on fire. There' s thorns growing on our bones. | |
Our hunger is xrated. | |
Oh, mother, we love you so! | |
Candy invites you upstairs, you say it' s getting awfully late, | |
but she yanks your hand through the door. | |
Her clothes fall off and she presses into you. | |
But those rats have chewed a hole straight through | |
her navel and nipple. | |
Mr. Howell: Oh, Candy. I' ve got to go. | |
Candy: Oh, won' t you stay the night with me Mr. Howell! | |
These rats are not living inside my hotel face. | |
They' re just sick and need a bed lined with fine lace. | |
Mr. Howell: You know that pity' s got an ugly price tag. x2 | |
Rats: Our muscles have turned to cement. | |
We' re coughing up needles and nails. | |
Our veins are flowing barbed wire. | |
Oh, mother, we are so frail! but wait! | |
We' ve got a trick for him. | |
We twist tears into shit eaten grins. | |
When you wake up in the morning you find yourself alone in | |
Candy' s bed. And everything is gone: paintings, jewels, songs. | |
Candy' s blowing in the breeze those rats devoured her up in her sleep. | |
Her skin' s tied to the bed post like a flag on a ship of ghosts. | |
You read the letter on the dresser the sick brown sun rubbing in your soul. | |
Reading letter: Oh, mother, you should have known. | |
You should have seen through our fake broken bones. | |
Our tears that we razorsharpened were calculated to rob you blind. | |
Mr. Howell: Three weeks later from that day, | |
I saw those rats on a bicycle. | |
They crept by me and started balling, | |
their eyes turned to icicles. | |
Crying, " We need a vacancy!" |