Lyrics Bordello - The Church

Bordello

Mmmm…
Good evening
Well this house looks like a bordello
And your mind it looks like a garage
And your garter looks like nothing
And you blew it, blew it large, yeah
Don’t give me no trouble
Don’t give me no strife
I’m tired of these shadows keep following me
All my _kin' life
And your mind looks like a bordello
And your treehouse looks like a suite
I’m looking up to the silver stars
And I’m looking down at your feet
Don’t tell me no lies, baby
I know just where you’ve been
Walking around St. Petersburg singing a hymn
Walking around St. Petersburg singing a hymn, like this
Please God help me out of this mess
Please God help me out of this mess
Fifteen long days and I need to confess
Mind looks like a bordello
This bordello looks like a shop
I’m skipping all over the silver streets
And when I run I stop
Do you hear me now?
Ahh, yeah
One for the crooked grocer
Two for his stupid wife
Three for the dark that bit me
Five, yeah
Ah, don’t give me no trouble
Don’t give me no lip
I’m gonna get a replacement
Because I’m so hip
Now listen…
Your mind looks like a bordello
Mmmm, yeah
Now you remember that time
We were walking down Cleveland Street, yeah
Huh!
Mmmm, I saw the way you’re looking at the men passing by
'Cause your mind is a bordello, baby
And I’m a nasty fellow, baby
And I was all turning yellow, baby
I said 'Hello baby!'
Ahh, don’t give me no trouble
Please don’t give me no lip
I know you’ve got a martini
I just want a little sip
Before I jump off of this ship
Your mind looks like a bordello
Your head looks like a tree
I look like you, baby
But you don’t look like me, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
Ahh, sweet angel
Can’t you numb anymore
Home time, hey hey
I’m sliding under your door
With the midnight ghosts
With my claws of steel…