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JEFF BUCKLEY
SKETCHES FOR MY SWEETHEART THE DRUNK |
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Witches' Rave
It sounds like a scream,
I don't know what you mean.
Your witchcraft's all aroundme in your ragged pagan scene.
You tell me all the ways around my garden that you like.
I float just like a bubble heading for a spike.
All is well between the breasts of passenger and slave.
We'll never make it out to join the witche's rave.
You'd like to see him suffer for your fantasy and thrill.
He fell sick while we made love,
he's out there, somewhere still.
Oh, I feel the spell that you have cast,
Hot, pink, nasty bubble gum,
coming down just like a big red coal.
Oooooooo. Oooooooo.
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
Hey! I try to keep all hidden when you come around.
Oh, no! The sight of broomsticks sliding on the ground.
You're levitating something, cause I feel so collectible.
We're all lying natural,
he's watching from a window up above
I see he loves you, I'll bring you closer...
Something in my fate says it's not right for me
Tell me, am I cursed or am I blessed? I don't know, oh
yes!
Cause all is well between the breasts
of passenger and slave.
I'll never make it out to join the witche's rave.
Oooooooo. Oooooooo.
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
I can't help from looking outside for a guarantee
For a guarantee.
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