Lyrics The Squid - Thought Industry

The Squid

I) Dancing with Elvis in Cyberspace
She walks beneath a presley stare.
Swivel hips a smile.
Pissed on morning charm.
Shaves her head with a lawnmower.
Her toenails painted Jesus blood.
Her facial cake is mud.
Chloroform and girl.
Strolled to the barstool,
grabbed the pole.
I heard her saying «As I was walking.
Yes, I was talking
looking for the sunset to give me nothing.
I will hold you tight.
Five drinks later, stumbling in the moonlight.»
Club stupid is a ginger house.
The bar a welfare line I think we’ll start with
gin.
Then to scotch with a soda chase.
Slide across the marble floor.
Through a pair of doors.
Volvo release a purr.
Back on garbage.
A you-turn.
I will hold you tight, eight drinks later speeding in the lamplight
The squid I say I am the world.
Swank as heat my style.
Polished wingtip.
Whirl.
Stiletto sticking hairspray curl.
Sixty-two a year for you.
Drinks and drugs
go round.
My mind a razor blade.
Rusty maybe, but fair today
I will hold you tight, ten drinks later dangling on a clothesline
Ya
«I'm still waiting for Ron Wood to join us on this
One.»
— Crossoverture