Winnebago Skeletons Lyrics
| Song | Winnebago Skeletons |
| Artist | The Handsome Family |
| Album | Milk and Scissors |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Sparks, Sparks | |
| There's a fish in my stomach a thousand years old | |
| Can't swim a full circle, | |
| The water's too cold | |
| Burnt out cars in my fingers, | |
| Conveyor belts flow, right angles and steam whistles, | |
| Nothing can grow | |
| A big-antlered deer stepping into the road, | |
| A beautiful woman with her head in the stove | |
| The skyscrapers crumble heavy with rats | |
| The wind's full of beer cans and whiffle ball bats | |
| This fish in my stomach wears a full length mink, | |
| But his teeth float in sherry in a jar by the sink | |
| He's the withered remains of Rin Tin Tin taking his new Cadillac out for a spin | |
| The endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound like | |
| Ben Franklin's electric kite crashing to the | |
| Ground and the Winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town |
| zuo ci : Sparks, Sparks | |
| There' s a fish in my stomach a thousand years old | |
| Can' t swim a full circle, | |
| The water' s too cold | |
| Burnt out cars in my fingers, | |
| Conveyor belts flow, right angles and steam whistles, | |
| Nothing can grow | |
| A bigantlered deer stepping into the road, | |
| A beautiful woman with her head in the stove | |
| The skyscrapers crumble heavy with rats | |
| The wind' s full of beer cans and whiffle ball bats | |
| This fish in my stomach wears a full length mink, | |
| But his teeth float in sherry in a jar by the sink | |
| He' s the withered remains of Rin Tin Tin taking his new Cadillac out for a spin | |
| The endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound like | |
| Ben Franklin' s electric kite crashing to the | |
| Ground and the Winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town |
| zuò cí : Sparks, Sparks | |
| There' s a fish in my stomach a thousand years old | |
| Can' t swim a full circle, | |
| The water' s too cold | |
| Burnt out cars in my fingers, | |
| Conveyor belts flow, right angles and steam whistles, | |
| Nothing can grow | |
| A bigantlered deer stepping into the road, | |
| A beautiful woman with her head in the stove | |
| The skyscrapers crumble heavy with rats | |
| The wind' s full of beer cans and whiffle ball bats | |
| This fish in my stomach wears a full length mink, | |
| But his teeth float in sherry in a jar by the sink | |
| He' s the withered remains of Rin Tin Tin taking his new Cadillac out for a spin | |
| The endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound like | |
| Ben Franklin' s electric kite crashing to the | |
| Ground and the Winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town |
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