The Geraldine Fibbers - Lilybelle lyrics

In the dark, She is rocking Not to records, But to voices in her head Lilybelle, Lilybelle, Lilybelle Hot as hell 3 a.m And it feels just like high noon In her head Come to bed When the air cools down I'm gonna skate away Gonna fly so far, I'm gonna kiss that star Get off of that trip Don't touch it baby Get off of that trip You'll burn your pretty fingers Get off of that trip You'll soil your cherry hands Get off of that trip Seven thousand holes to blow through Oh, scissors and paper And other sharp things You can chew on that For a while You're a trained dog, girl, You got house, heart of gold Won't you try to forget, Won't you let me, Won't you let me go to sleep Close your eyes, pull the plug Turn it down, k** the lights Shut it up, shut it up Let your head go under, let your head go under Let your head go to nothing, girl Get off of that trip Don't touch it baby Get off of that trip You'll burn your pretty fingers Get off of that trip You'll soil your cherry hands Get off of that trip Seven thousand holes to blow through There are songbirds And sweet things Where angels bare wings And bask in the afterglow Of good deeds done by tender souls But I, in my wretched state, Fat from years of s**ing hate, Can never scrape the dirt off, Can never shake the other side It hides in holes behind my eyes