Lorna Zauberberg Lyrics

	作曲 : Doughty
	Wait for your train in my car by the station
	On the wheel, my hands are burning from the cold
	What do you dream as you doze against the window?
	And will you tell the dream when you come home?
	Virility is in the house of lesser than
	And in breakfast we get by on charm alone
	The sun beats down on immaculate beige carpets
	And the plank of spoons bounce off the off-white wall
	I flipped through the music that you left
	All the old cassettes that lean against the wall
	I ate all the peaches off the shelf
	And I rearranged the cans into a poem
	Vicious mobs of candy-ravers stalk the night
	And methadonians sleep right where they stand
	A weeping tranny is cradling a steak knife
	And you're happily slugging
	Rob Roys with your man
	I fold all the sweaters in the drawer
	And I smelled your smell and
	I held one to my nose
	Lay awake to the drizzle on window
	As the swan neck of the fan sweeps back and forth

	zuo qu : Doughty
	Wait for your train in my car by the station
	On the wheel, my hands are burning from the cold
	What do you dream as you doze against the window?
	And will you tell the dream when you come home?
	Virility is in the house of lesser than
	And in breakfast we get by on charm alone
	The sun beats down on immaculate beige carpets
	And the plank of spoons bounce off the offwhite wall
	I flipped through the music that you left
	All the old cassettes that lean against the wall
	I ate all the peaches off the shelf
	And I rearranged the cans into a poem
	Vicious mobs of candyravers stalk the night
	And methadonians sleep right where they stand
	A weeping tranny is cradling a steak knife
	And you' re happily slugging
	Rob Roys with your man
	I fold all the sweaters in the drawer
	And I smelled your smell and
	I held one to my nose
	Lay awake to the drizzle on window
	As the swan neck of the fan sweeps back and forth

	zuò qǔ : Doughty
	Wait for your train in my car by the station
	On the wheel, my hands are burning from the cold
	What do you dream as you doze against the window?
	And will you tell the dream when you come home?
	Virility is in the house of lesser than
	And in breakfast we get by on charm alone
	The sun beats down on immaculate beige carpets
	And the plank of spoons bounce off the offwhite wall
	I flipped through the music that you left
	All the old cassettes that lean against the wall
	I ate all the peaches off the shelf
	And I rearranged the cans into a poem
	Vicious mobs of candyravers stalk the night
	And methadonians sleep right where they stand
	A weeping tranny is cradling a steak knife
	And you' re happily slugging
	Rob Roys with your man
	I fold all the sweaters in the drawer
	And I smelled your smell and
	I held one to my nose
	Lay awake to the drizzle on window
	As the swan neck of the fan sweeps back and forth

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