Holiday Call

Is that you, my Lord?

Hands on my knee, my Lord?

Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?

Asking me to leave with you?

Oh, my Lord

Is that you, my Lord?

Hands on my knee, my Lord?

Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?

Asking me to leave with you,

My Lord?

I freaked at the festival

I'm almost sick again

Our memories are sighed away

All the TVs are stoned

It's no construct for prayer

Is that you, my Lord?

Hands on my knee, my Lord?

Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?

Asking me to leave with you,

Oh, my Lord?

I freaked at the festival

I'm almost sick again

Our memories are found again

All the telephones are stoned

It's no construct for prayer

Bitch you know it's got to bounce

Don't lie to me, Charlies

I hardly know you

I know enough to stay away

No row boat for you

Wishes granting

Out of date

Don't lie to me, Charlies

I hardly know you

I know enough, enough to stay away

No row boat for you

Don't lie to me, Charlies

I hardly know you