Girl O'Clock Lyrics

	作曲 : Dismemberment Plan
	If I don't have sex by the end of the week,
	I'm going to die.
	If I don't feel a pair of soft lips on my own,
	oh, I'm going to hang my head and cry.
	If I don't feel warm breath on the nape of my neck,
	or feel a nice post-coital sigh.
	C'mon baby, you can tell the cops why…
	And ya don't know the ice,
	ice cold vice that grips my head.
	And ya don't know the burning,
	the burning I feel when I try to get out of bed .
	And ya don't know how these urges,
	all these urges,
	all these urges,
	can be so very very misread.
	C'mon baby, was it something I said?
	When it's there,
	it's either day or night,
	you know it's girl o'clock.
	I don't know,
	but I've been told it's so,
	you know it's good as gold,
	you know it's tick-tock ya don't stop.
	If I don't have a nervous breakdown by the end of the week,
	I'm going to be very,
	very surprised

	zuo qu : Dismemberment Plan
	If I don' t have sex by the end of the week,
	I' m going to die.
	If I don' t feel a pair of soft lips on my own,
	oh, I' m going to hang my head and cry.
	If I don' t feel warm breath on the nape of my neck,
	or feel a nice postcoital sigh.
	C' mon baby, you can tell the cops why
	And ya don' t know the ice,
	ice cold vice that grips my head.
	And ya don' t know the burning,
	the burning I feel when I try to get out of bed .
	And ya don' t know how these urges,
	all these urges,
	all these urges,
	can be so very very misread.
	C' mon baby, was it something I said?
	When it' s there,
	it' s either day or night,
	you know it' s girl o' clock.
	I don' t know,
	but I' ve been told it' s so,
	you know it' s good as gold,
	you know it' s ticktock ya don' t stop.
	If I don' t have a nervous breakdown by the end of the week,
	I' m going to be very,
	very surprised

	zuò qǔ : Dismemberment Plan
	If I don' t have sex by the end of the week,
	I' m going to die.
	If I don' t feel a pair of soft lips on my own,
	oh, I' m going to hang my head and cry.
	If I don' t feel warm breath on the nape of my neck,
	or feel a nice postcoital sigh.
	C' mon baby, you can tell the cops why
	And ya don' t know the ice,
	ice cold vice that grips my head.
	And ya don' t know the burning,
	the burning I feel when I try to get out of bed .
	And ya don' t know how these urges,
	all these urges,
	all these urges,
	can be so very very misread.
	C' mon baby, was it something I said?
	When it' s there,
	it' s either day or night,
	you know it' s girl o' clock.
	I don' t know,
	but I' ve been told it' s so,
	you know it' s good as gold,
	you know it' s ticktock ya don' t stop.
	If I don' t have a nervous breakdown by the end of the week,
	I' m going to be very,
	very surprised

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