1. Happy house.
This is the happy house, we're happy here in the happy house, oh it's such fun. We've come to play in the happy house and waste a day in the happy house, it never rains, never rains. We've come to scream in the happy house, we're in a dream in the happy house, we're all quite sane. This is the happy house, we're happy here.
There's room for you if you say "I do" but don't say no or you'll have to go. We've done no wrong with our blinkers on, it's safe and calm if you sing along, sing along. This is the happy house, we're happy here in the happy house. To forget ourselves and pretend all is well. There is no hell.
2. Tenants.
Squatting on doorsteps, following footsteps, nocturnal habits are surveyed with interest. So we crawl into corners, ignore any callers and imagine our radiators clang for our neighbors.
When we crawl on all fours upon the cushioned floor still they cling to the wall, knock on our doors and the tendency for tenants is tenacity. The paint is cracked and the paper peels, the plaster falls and the body reels softly.
Forty watt bulb swing from a light cloud. On lawnmower groan, the carpet has grown but they have eyes at the keyholes and ears at the walls, they have eyes at the keyholes and ears at the walls, and the tendency for tenants is secrecy.
3. Trophy.
Headhunters, headshrinkers and long distance runners, dust gathers on momentoes, dust gathers on proud moments. Young voices grow thick and old, the cheers are distant wearing thin. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall.
Yes they're locked away or polished every day for the maintenence man in the back of a van. Oh young voices grow thick and old, the cheers are distant wearing thin. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall.
Bring yourselves out from your showcase parties, but you've been shut away too long, you've been shut away too long. Frightened faces in the rain misplaced features run down the drain, oh wash away and start again. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall. Take it to the wall.
4. Hybrid.
It's a hybrid of me, I'm a hybrid of he, you're a misfit of me, I'm a misfit of you in limbo. Carbon copies run blue, a reminder for you but they're only skin deep crumpled shells in a heap, marked cheap. Surrogate heads of a no-no domain, shoulders form rows to make waves again, catch the next train.
When you walked through that door, marked "enter if you dare". Reasoned with a friend marked "do not bend", bit on that finger marked "handle with care".
A tear soiled your cheek, a broken finger on the floor, a mess in sawdust, a shop window burst, no repairs. It's a hybrid of me, I'm a hybrid of he, you're a misfit for me, I'm a misfit for you in limbo. Do you speak the lingo? In limbo.
5. Clockface.
(Instrumental)
6. Lunar camel.
Chasing a monsoon over the dune, oh fly me to the moon, get me there soon. I don't have to prove, I'll last longer than you, one hump or two any handicap will do against you. I'll be there soon, over the moon. I'll be there soon, over the moon.
Chasing a monsoon over the dune, oh fly me to the moon, get me there soon.
7. Christine.
She tries not to shatter, kaleidoscope style, personality changes behind her red smile, every new problem brings a stranger inside, heplessly forcing one more new disguise. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Singing sweet savages lost in our world, this big eyed-girl sees her faces unfurl, now's shes in purple, now's shes the turtle, distintegrating. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Now's shes in purple, now's she the turtle, disintegrating. Christine, Christine. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Christine, Christine, Christine, Christine turn into faces, disintegrating. Christine, Christine, Christine, disintegrating.
8. Desert kisses.
Desert kisses in the sand, engulfing joints, engulfing land. Tidal fingers cling to rocks, a deadly grip, a deadly lock, cursed and pissed into the ocean, wilfully caused a great commotion but only for a stifled moment. Then it was back to still life motion.
A sideways crawl, a sideways scrawl, the cancer crab is on us all. I kissed your face, I kissed the sand, I heard you sigh, there was no sound. Thrashed and spat back at the ocean but there was nothing, no commotion, just my lonely stupid notions, trapped again in still life motion.
Sinking down with just my sound, sinking down, unning on the moving ground, sinking down. Sinking down, without a sound, sinking down, sleeping on the moving ground, sinking down.
Desert kisses in the sand engulfing joints, engulfing land. Tidal fingers cling to rocks, a deadly grip, a deadly lock. Sinking down, the world is round, sinking down, there's noone around, standing on the moving ground. Sinking down, the world is flat, there's noone here to question that.
Sinking down, without a sound, sinking down. Sinking down, the world was round, sinking down, there was noone around, sinking down.
9. Red light.
She falls into frame with a professional pout but the polaroids ignite on seeing their subject. And the aperture shuts too much exposure. Voyeur sucks into focus, floodlit the glossy kiss pit but as emulsion drips down, down, the aperture shuts too much exposure.
Come into this room, come into this gloom, see the red light rinsing another shutterslut wincing, the sagging half wit sister, pretty, pretty picture of an ancient nipple shrinking, that Kodakwhore winking, 'til the aperture shuts too much exposure. Come into this room, come into this gloom, see the red light rinsing another shutterslut wincing. See the red light rinsing. See the red light rinsing.
10. Paradise place.
Look to the hills, now look at my face. Do you notice my eyes, are they in the right place? There's a Mantovani backdrop to pucker up a tummy tuck, a voice soft as lint mashed up with shades of pink.
You can hide your genetics under drastic cosmetics but this chameleon magic is renowned to be tragic Look to the hills, now look at my face. Do you notice my eyes, are they in the right place?
11. Skin.
Mink, seal and ermine, smother fat women, I have a noble cause for skin, there's just too many of them. The only necessary cull, curse the brain inside it's skull, just a bitch in the manger to the balances of nature. Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
Hairless and streamline, fits like my own skin tatooed and sun dyed, it's warm and it's human There was too many of them, the animals like them, shame about the smell but they're fine steeped in perfume. Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
This is the happy house, we're happy here in the happy house, oh it's such fun. We've come to play in the happy house and waste a day in the happy house, it never rains, never rains. We've come to scream in the happy house, we're in a dream in the happy house, we're all quite sane. This is the happy house, we're happy here.
There's room for you if you say "I do" but don't say no or you'll have to go. We've done no wrong with our blinkers on, it's safe and calm if you sing along, sing along. This is the happy house, we're happy here in the happy house. To forget ourselves and pretend all is well. There is no hell.
2. Tenants.
Squatting on doorsteps, following footsteps, nocturnal habits are surveyed with interest. So we crawl into corners, ignore any callers and imagine our radiators clang for our neighbors.
When we crawl on all fours upon the cushioned floor still they cling to the wall, knock on our doors and the tendency for tenants is tenacity. The paint is cracked and the paper peels, the plaster falls and the body reels softly.
Forty watt bulb swing from a light cloud. On lawnmower groan, the carpet has grown but they have eyes at the keyholes and ears at the walls, they have eyes at the keyholes and ears at the walls, and the tendency for tenants is secrecy.
3. Trophy.
Headhunters, headshrinkers and long distance runners, dust gathers on momentoes, dust gathers on proud moments. Young voices grow thick and old, the cheers are distant wearing thin. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall.
Yes they're locked away or polished every day for the maintenence man in the back of a van. Oh young voices grow thick and old, the cheers are distant wearing thin. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall.
Bring yourselves out from your showcase parties, but you've been shut away too long, you've been shut away too long. Frightened faces in the rain misplaced features run down the drain, oh wash away and start again. Take it to the wall, to be hung on the wall, to be viewed by all a tribute in the grand hall. Take it to the wall.
4. Hybrid.
It's a hybrid of me, I'm a hybrid of he, you're a misfit of me, I'm a misfit of you in limbo. Carbon copies run blue, a reminder for you but they're only skin deep crumpled shells in a heap, marked cheap. Surrogate heads of a no-no domain, shoulders form rows to make waves again, catch the next train.
When you walked through that door, marked "enter if you dare". Reasoned with a friend marked "do not bend", bit on that finger marked "handle with care".
A tear soiled your cheek, a broken finger on the floor, a mess in sawdust, a shop window burst, no repairs. It's a hybrid of me, I'm a hybrid of he, you're a misfit for me, I'm a misfit for you in limbo. Do you speak the lingo? In limbo.
5. Clockface.
(Instrumental)
6. Lunar camel.
Chasing a monsoon over the dune, oh fly me to the moon, get me there soon. I don't have to prove, I'll last longer than you, one hump or two any handicap will do against you. I'll be there soon, over the moon. I'll be there soon, over the moon.
Chasing a monsoon over the dune, oh fly me to the moon, get me there soon.
7. Christine.
She tries not to shatter, kaleidoscope style, personality changes behind her red smile, every new problem brings a stranger inside, heplessly forcing one more new disguise. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Singing sweet savages lost in our world, this big eyed-girl sees her faces unfurl, now's shes in purple, now's shes the turtle, distintegrating. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Now's shes in purple, now's she the turtle, disintegrating. Christine, Christine. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady. Christine, the strawberry girl, Christine, banana split lady.
Christine, Christine, Christine, Christine turn into faces, disintegrating. Christine, Christine, Christine, disintegrating.
8. Desert kisses.
Desert kisses in the sand, engulfing joints, engulfing land. Tidal fingers cling to rocks, a deadly grip, a deadly lock, cursed and pissed into the ocean, wilfully caused a great commotion but only for a stifled moment. Then it was back to still life motion.
A sideways crawl, a sideways scrawl, the cancer crab is on us all. I kissed your face, I kissed the sand, I heard you sigh, there was no sound. Thrashed and spat back at the ocean but there was nothing, no commotion, just my lonely stupid notions, trapped again in still life motion.
Sinking down with just my sound, sinking down, unning on the moving ground, sinking down. Sinking down, without a sound, sinking down, sleeping on the moving ground, sinking down.
Desert kisses in the sand engulfing joints, engulfing land. Tidal fingers cling to rocks, a deadly grip, a deadly lock. Sinking down, the world is round, sinking down, there's noone around, standing on the moving ground. Sinking down, the world is flat, there's noone here to question that.
Sinking down, without a sound, sinking down. Sinking down, the world was round, sinking down, there was noone around, sinking down.
9. Red light.
She falls into frame with a professional pout but the polaroids ignite on seeing their subject. And the aperture shuts too much exposure. Voyeur sucks into focus, floodlit the glossy kiss pit but as emulsion drips down, down, the aperture shuts too much exposure.
Come into this room, come into this gloom, see the red light rinsing another shutterslut wincing, the sagging half wit sister, pretty, pretty picture of an ancient nipple shrinking, that Kodakwhore winking, 'til the aperture shuts too much exposure. Come into this room, come into this gloom, see the red light rinsing another shutterslut wincing. See the red light rinsing. See the red light rinsing.
10. Paradise place.
Look to the hills, now look at my face. Do you notice my eyes, are they in the right place? There's a Mantovani backdrop to pucker up a tummy tuck, a voice soft as lint mashed up with shades of pink.
You can hide your genetics under drastic cosmetics but this chameleon magic is renowned to be tragic Look to the hills, now look at my face. Do you notice my eyes, are they in the right place?
11. Skin.
Mink, seal and ermine, smother fat women, I have a noble cause for skin, there's just too many of them. The only necessary cull, curse the brain inside it's skull, just a bitch in the manger to the balances of nature. Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
Hairless and streamline, fits like my own skin tatooed and sun dyed, it's warm and it's human There was too many of them, the animals like them, shame about the smell but they're fine steeped in perfume. Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
Cover me with skin and accuse me of sin but you know what I mean, there's just too many of them. Give me your skin for dancing in, give me your skin for dancing in.
· · ·
Año: 1980.
Procedencia de la banda: Londres, Inglaterra.
· · ·
Año: 1980.
Procedencia de la banda: Londres, Inglaterra.
· · ·
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