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I Don't Know If This Is A Matter For Wardrobe Or Hairdressing

from We Bake Our Bread Beneath Her Holy Fire by Thumpermonkey

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lyrics

You only want the vampires you invite. Show me the killer can cash a cheque and I'll bend. Show me the all-fours game that went to plan. One day you know someone will catch you in the act and leave a cup of tea beside you, cos' you cut corners. If you cut corners, baby, if you cut corners - you don't get excused from the table again, the table again. Because you cut corners, Daddy said don't ya mess with men and straight bourbon, but forgot to mention, girls and cocaine, girls and cocaine. It isn't a habit. Look at you, I can see it isn't a habit.You should know cos you've been on it for years, it's only the good girls who find the time to keep a diary. You're leaving the world just to document every circumstance of vice. At least your liberal education gets you home. You read the Bard and the Bible, and you know how to shoot dice. Still think there's an art-form in your dirty protest? We love what you've done with the room, but we've seen it before. Deep down you want your kids to think of you demanding bourbon and codeine on your emphysemic deathbed. You'll need a chaser with that before exposing yourself in front of Alfred Hitchcock. Show me the pie without the missing slice and the dirty knife. Show me the dog don't dream about fuckin' up a cat. You only want the vampires you invite. You only drop the bombs that you think you can call back home. Fuck the fucking fucks with fucking diaries. You're leaving the world just to document every circumstance of vice. At least your liberal education gets you cutting those corners. If you cut corners, baby, if you cut corners - you don't get excused from the table again, the table again. Because you cut corners, Daddy said don't ya mess with men and straight bourbon, but forgot to mention, girls and cocaine, girls and cocaine. It isn't a habit.

credits

from We Bake Our Bread Beneath Her Holy Fire, released May 9, 2010

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Thumpermonkey London, UK

A person in space, walking, or adrift, but safe, exploring, freedom, discovery.

A clockwork piano contraption, like a giant ballerina box, but turning a big totem pole, around which smart office dressed people slowly dance with dead glazed eyes as a slightly out of tune slow Satie-like Lydian melody loops round.

White men in pith helmets hunting large animals to extinction. ... more

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