| Jean Cocteau is covered in butter
|
| the ghosts of cappuccino and Zaza hover
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| in the hallway where the devil and his lover
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| beg you for change on the sly
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| there’s nothing really like French blues
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| blown by the unknown soldier in you
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| to all of your regrets and your rues
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| I’ll meet you down there when I try
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| but do you ever wonder where you go when you die
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| Emile’s vietnam in the sky
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| Oh take better care of your heart
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| and you’ll be opening a swiss bank account
|
| let go go for now play a part
|
| or you’ll be swimming those milk clouds on high
|
| But do you ever wonder where you go when you die
|
| Emile’s vietnam in the sky
|
| Yeah do you ever wonder where you go when you die
|
| Emile’s vietnam in the sky
|
| Yeah do you ever wonder where you go when you die
|
| Emile’s vietnam in the sky
|
| Emile’s vietnam in the sky
|
| Emile’s vietnam in the sky |