Denis Blackham - Princess Disease lyrics

The you needs to get a 3-star room You're pleading to get to room Constantly looking to find that place That something That somebody And when you do the you becomes troubled and disturbed And in that state proceed to be shocked and astonished Can't think of anything but dinner from room service? The hot plate of food The tasty fried meat The steaming potatoes The tender vegetables? Friendly crusty bread Hot chocolate dessert Topped so affectionately with double cream Is that the you's only friend? Apart from waiter who promised to bring it with great pleasure Question: when did you notice the internal pain? Was it before signing the cheque? Hurt deep inside the vagina It must be cancer Or rape Get to the toilet to find bright red blood But you're past bleeding That something That somebody Question: what are those huge gashes on your right leg from the middle of the back of the leg to the middle of the front? What the f** is that? Where the f** did that come from? Time for a shower A shower to wash away the filth The memory And get ready to examine the glory of those Flawless Rohypnol bruises Or GHB? Or both? Was it that black boy who brought dinner? Or the bartender? But then the you chooses not to have s** How can you face what you can't remember? In 3-star room You want to get home to huddle and shake Huddle and shake Shake it, you Shake, rattle and roll it then, not c*nt f**ing shake it Question: do I have to console you? Talk to the you? That you're not a piece of crap? When the you gets raped? Would I abandon you? Would I abandon a piece of crap? Do you really think I would do that? Why was it the you? The c*nt? No short skirt No fantasy hose No flirting Daylight Just two drinks Not hungry for a good hard f**ing that would leave nc Pummeled with pain inside You want to get to hospital bed The white womb Patiently waiting for the you Constantly looking to find that place The bed for the bronchitis (That inflammation of the lining of the bronchial tubes) The delirium The cellulitis (that infection of the soft tissues in the legs - lethal if not treated with antibiotics) The painful blood clots The atrophying of muscles The pneumonia (that serious infection of your lungs) The high fever The glamour of serious illness quoi Selfishness But there's nothing wrong with that It's what makes the you different Significant Stronger than yesterday Loneliness doesn't hurt any more New question: so how do you like psychiatrists? Lucid? Or empathetic? But then the you just blank stares Or says some words And that's the moment you rule over all life