The Disco Shark Of Aries Songtext

In dirty laundry hides of sheepskin clothes

In the silhouette of home...

Theres hooks in the river like the scabs in my soul...


The park benches have eyes...

Iceland ulcer tries...

The radio tumor said,

"12, 211 is dead..."


And if you kiss the angry door...

Stitch the computers and phlegmatic sores...
Where the faceless smiles sing no more...

With the lepers of guilt in the valley of whores...


And if you churn the golden hut...

You'll find me and my atomic cuts...

With threshold eyes in jaded seas...

For the British 99 of wristwatch trees...


Usted y sus ojos ciegos

Su mar de machisto de mentiras enredadas

Piel estupido de victoria

Voy a romper el velo en su ego


I'm barking at your boots

Your arrow point arm ain't no Sith lord

Bathroom walls on mute

Cause these pretty little signs aren't playing my tunes


The dolls have grown old...

On 10 I stole...

From Heim Von's leaves...

To Heim Sorg's weeds...


And if you kiss the angry door...

Stitch the computers and phlegmatic sores...

Where the faceless smiles sing no more...

With the lepers of guilt in the valley of whores...


And if you churn the golden hut...

You'll find me and my atomic cuts...

With threshold eyes in jaded seas...

For the British 99 of wristwatch trees...


Feed me to the spiders...

This handcuffs biting tighter...

Feed me to the spiders...

This life is growing tired...


Cats fade into heavens grin...

Sharks fly into pendulum sins...

West Coast princess answered the phone...

Weren't we safe in the comfort of home?


Let's conjugate the libido theory...

Let's do our hit and run routine...

I know you and your Hebrew face...

This is my surrealistic tirade...


Lucy, why is everyone so evil?

Lucy, why is everyone so evil?

Lucy, why is everyone so evil?

Lucy, why is everyone so...


And if you kiss the angry door...

Stitch the computers and phlegmatic sores...

Where the faceless smiles sing no more...

With the lepers of guilt in the valley of whores..


And if you churn the golden hut...

You'll find me and my atomic cuts...

With threshold eyes in jaded seas...

For the British 99 of wristwatch trees...


And if you stroke the rusty cage...

Comfort me in my lachrymal gaze...

Lend me your arms in the courtyard...

And then I'll show you my bleeding heart...


And if you're alone, think of me...

And if you're alone, think of me...

And if you're alone, think of me...

And if you're alone, think of me...