You Sound Like Louis Burdett Lyrics

You Sound Like Louis Burdett lyrics

Had a little bit to drink. There's a little thing I want to do out East. Nothing
too emotional, my good miss. I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knfe
eyes. Stop talking 'bout the years- you sound like Louis Burdett. And we roll
on to my backshed, play some poker, scratch my head. Look at the sky and spot
the planes, where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches, down the
aisles, and down the street the weeks roll by. I'm chewing ice and grinning,
I'm spewing up and singing. It's billiousness as usual in my corner of the
kitchen. Hey you, lose that friend before we go anywhere. What? Someone wmight
see you alone? Stop baggin' out the band, 'cause you sound like Louis Burdett.
All my friends are f**k-ups but they're fun to have around, banana chairs out
on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Geminis love Wooden Dragons,
and how down the street the weeks roll by. The moment the night wears off, the
bombsite reappears. They're all asleep but the morning tastes like wine, It
tastes like wine in Tempe. I feel so good I just might wake him up. Pat him on
th bald head- tell me about a dream Louis, something obscene Louis, your life's
an open magazine Louis. I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub, sex is
everywhere but nowhere 'round me. By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be
masturbating. It never rains in Tempe but the planes remind me of family money
and the lack down here. Stop talking frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis
Burdett And we roll on to my backshed, play some poker, scratch my head. Look
at the sky and spot the planes, where would I go on holidays? Roll with the
punches, down the aisles, and down the street the weeks roll by. All my friends
are f**k-ups but they're fun to have around, banana chairs out on the concrete,
telling stories to the stars how Geminis love Wooden Dragons, and how down the
street the weeks roll by. Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun
to have around. Terror, like charity, begins at home. Chris don't like the
madness, but the madness likes him. He's got a finger in his chest saying how
it should have been. And we roll on to my backshed, play some poker, scratch my
head. Look at the sky and spot the planes, where would I go on holidays? Roll
with the punches, down the aisles, and down the street the weeks roll by. My
friends are completely f**ked but they're such fun to have around. Banana
chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Geminis love
Wooden Dragons, and how down the street the weeks roll by.