Lose The Baby - Tropical Fuck Storm

The night sits upon a golden song

With a noose in her bag

She said, «Listen boy you better run, run, run»

Down on the street they’re trying to steal her car

With cold lips, blue hearts

Saying, «Lose the baby or you won’t get far»

And if you think that it, cuts me up

I’m gonna sharpen up my tongue and really

Cut you up

And if you think that it, gets me down

I’m gonna gather all my strength and really

Drag you under

Here comes a drummer with the golden arm

Hes got a noose in a bag

He wants to hang it on the singer with the golden lung

Shes singing, «you're sunglasses and i’m white light»

Out here on the moonless ocean you sing

Be-bop-a-Lula baby that’s alright

And if you think that it, cuts me up

I’m gonna sharpen up my tongue and really

Cut you up

And if you think that it, gets me down

I’m gonna gather all my strength and really

Drag you under

And down on the beach they’re all covered in fun

With cold hearts, hot action

I see a five foot doll and a seven foot bruiser

And back up on the street they are still painted blue

They’re only wishing on a star

Saying, «Lose the baby or you won’t get far»

And if you think that it, cuts me up

I’m gonna sharpen up my tongue and really

Cut you up

And if you think that it, gets me down

I’m gonna gather all my strength and really

Drag you under