| ROCK THE WIDOW incl. THAT GLASS INDIAN
I never trust in women
I never trust in these open eyes
I always get my fever
Every day ruled by female life
But the worst is the widow
She knows the life after life after life
In her mind this picture
Comparing cocks with knives
Chorus:
Is it her breast
I don't think so
Or is it her sex
Is it her head
Oh no no no
What the devil drives me mad
Rock the widow
Rock the widow
Heat this widow
She sits there on the barstool
With her black naked widow eyes
A cuntful hoping
Within the desert of unsexual maids
You spend her a beer
You risk a view at her spreading black
But the crime
of a widow
Is the young white of her back
Chorus
That glass indian has been smoother than a foozle at a tea party
And sharper than a serious cunt
Fresh from his home
The Big Idea
He felt into a slumber
And he saw his chick squaw Hole Hound Harriet
Acting on a black and white slow motion love dream
Cleaning the fire place
Her jet met his hand
And it smacked of a Chop Suey orgy on a jazzed honeymoon
And he saw the chief leaving his teepee
What a slide
Fixing Harriet's melon munsters
Wotanka created machine
The oyster dream
Not only horns are blown
The chief muttered to Custer and chopped down the hound
He pumped and pumped by the plump of a trumpet
This was the moment
That glass indian opened his eyes
And he cracked and he burnt
You know
It was the day the world has got her first female leader
Cleaning the fire place
Repeat first verse and chorus
Words: Tom Redecker
Music: Tom Redecker
Published by Strange Ways / Warner Chappell 1989 |