Foetus

Get Out Of My House


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I feel like I've just walked in on the set of a Roger Corman movie
Full of bad dialogue, tacky sets, 99 pound weaklings, naughty nymphettes
Coffe rings on everything, can't see where my halo's been
Caviar to the General, cold coffe for the queen
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT
If a hermit lives in ecstasy, his lack of comfort has become luxury
I tried to cook up some privacy but the doorbell tore up the recipe
At the end of my tether, they're hell for leather, everybody talks about the weather
I was standing I was standing on the landing now I'M standing in the hall
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE
Caviar cold coffee the milk's gone off.
Like a coctail, molotov
Caviar cold coffee the grapes of wrath.
Cocktail with your molotov?
I'm not complacent in my basement.
Who's the judge? Here comes the jury...
Get that blunt object out of my face, there's too much violence in front of T.V.
Be a bit more un-can-ny... my temple was a shrine
You don't govern me, (no protection money), you can't turn off milk into wine
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE GET OUT OF MY HOUSE


Autor(es): J.G. Thirlwell