Wild vanilla Clean dreams downcast eyes If you lived here you'd been home now and suicidal That was one striking phone call boy your voice at a fever pitch And here I thought that you'd just full of white noise called to b**h You messing with my head makes a terrible noise
Wild vanilla Clean eyes and grey hair Cross an ocean and you vague and itchy belong there You are whizzing past my ears a sh** scared domestic god You make the gypsy in me horny for a flower garden You messing with my head makes a terrible noise