Marillion - Interior Lulu текст песни

As you lie there on your bed

Beneath the face of louise brooks

With your makeup and your teddy bear

And your c.s. lewis books

Bad seed

Youre a bad seed

Youre a decadent in chrysalis

Waiting sleepily to emerge

When youll visit every seedy need

Of your random obsessive urge

All the ruses that you use

All the food that you refuse

All the dust and tired air that feeds interior lulus

All the poisoned attitudes

And the lust for the unknown

And the second best that devils use

To make this world their own

Interior lulu

Interior lulu

Every rainy day by e-mail

As you lie there on your bed

Another virtual page arrives

There will be times when you remember me

Of the chapters youll be writing

As the voices echo in your head

In the book called wasted lives

As you read henry and anais

All the lost weekends and booze

All the finger-and-thumb screws

All the sleepless worn out blues that bruise interior lulus

Interior lulu

Interior lulu

Use the anger

Paint a picture of it

Throw the colours

Use the pain, use the pain

Scream back a brand new emotion

As it runs across the skin

Fire across paper

Burn and curl, burn and curl

You thought you couldnt feel like this

But its happening again and youre waking up in pain

Tattooed in that private place

Microsoft and tears

Intimately pierced

Discovering and remembering

You felt like this somewhere before

Stirrin up the bed of the river

Somewhere you dont like to go

You wrote this down so many times

But you get up anyway and you write it down again

Youve bored us all to death with this

Well who you gonna tell

When youve nothing left to sell

She says shes lonely

She says she knows me

But shes a one-way street

She told me what I already know

"if you can carry it out you can take it away

If you can carry it out you can take it away

If you can buy it, it can be bought

If you can buy it, it can be stolen

If you can break it

Its already broken"

Lately, I can stand to hear other people talking

So many empty conversations

What a waste of lips

Lately I can stand to stand on primrose hill

Look down upon the city

A heart pumping the roads

In our racing stripes

We rejoice at being "connected"

Without touching

Thank God for the internet

We stare at our screens

All our lives

What a waste of eyes

till the electrical storm blows our fuses

And we gaze, dumbfounded, at the rain

All the trust and tired care

Left to rust and go nowhere

All this gold beneath my skin

Sparklin like sin somewhere within

In so deep

In so deep that

I cant sleep for these interior lu lu lu lu lus