Текст песни Vyrna Knowl Is A Headbanger

She bangs a bowl

She bangs a bat

She bangs a ball and builds her cat

She bangs her head

Against the wall

She bangs her head and slides her fat

She catches Handel in her flat

Her man is right

In greasy silk

A split tomato in his mind

A crumpled heart

Sags to the sea

Tomato heart escaping gas

She has her man in rubber skin

Of all the people that I know

The ones I like I love the best

The fishes in the sewer pipes

The highway man is yellow stripes

At least I'm not a coathanger

Vyrna Knowl you're a headbanger

B-b-b-b-b-b-b-bang

She tangs her fag

She taints her cyst

She fludles gun around her rug

She twists her fang

She tugs her foot

She muffles hamsters in a squat

Her hair's on his marshmallow pout

His head is rich

Enough to burst

Fresh ale and flies on melon halves were like enstrung

Around her calves

You wind up living somewhere cheap

And die upon a compost heap

Well all the people I don't know

The ones I do I hate the most

The twisted father of mankind

'S enough to drive a poor boy blind
Soft Boys - Vyrna Knowl Is A Headbanger - http://ru.motolyrics.com/soft-boys/vyrna-knowl-is-a-headbanger-lyrics.html
At least I'm not a coathanger

Vyrna Knowl you're a headbanger

Bang

She bangs it once and that's no lies

She bangs it twice and both her eyes

Come dangle out on yo-yo strings

Her head bore branches on a sheath

And Vyrna bubbles on the heath

"My heart is full of soap," she sighs

A tounge of stalk

And tender leaves

And then she'll eat

Her skull it ____ and splits

And like an egg

It dribbles down your inside leg

Don't get me wrong I'm quite okay

She tounges a cat

She tounges a cake

She throws transistors in a lake

She throws her head

Far through the door

I wonder what she does that for

I wonder what she think I gots

Yeah, listen Vyrna

(Shutdown)

There ain't nothing in here but your own sweet mind

(Shutdown)

If it bothers you we can turn it off

(Shutdown)

With your silly red shoes and your grecian urn

(Shutdown)

And your feet potted out of a veiled cocoon

(Shutdown)

Like an overweight butteyfly on a thin red scone

A rotting statue on a feathery dawn

Invented you one summer's morn

At least I'm not a coathanger

Vyrna Kowl you're a headbanger