Dinner's getting cold -- You haven't touched a thing So what's it gonna be? I can hold out much longer than you When it's steady I'm just acting out my roles When you're ready I'll be walking out that door And don't call me Pretty Baby anymore, Oh, foolish worker bee -- I'm your fucking queen.
I threw out the phone to try to get through to you The lines are down, drowned by the hum of the radiator This house is the hole that you could never fill With rose-blossomed bouquets, vanities and loveseats
Sad little boy, I know you get confused But everyone goes through these trials of truth and self-abuse When you're selfless you're so hard not to adore When you're selfish, I just love you even more I want to help you, but you've got to say the words: "I want to be cured."
Drowned... Deep in this hole we've dug for ourselves Throw me in -- headfirst, submerged in this great depression Impoverished, and Impotent....
...And Don't Call Me Pretty Baby
I threw out the phone to try to get through to you The lines are down, drowned by the hum of the radiator This house is the hole that you could never fill With shattered dinner plates That's how we'll communicate
Hey, Pretty Baby, are you ready for bed? Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
