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Pink Lunettes Lyrics - Artist : Pond
Ooh
Too long A taste of chilled anisette, babe Looking good in pink lunette, babe I see her in pink lunette I see her in pink lunette I see her through pink lunette, babe Woo It was like It was like, ah A taste of chilled anisette Looking good in pink lunette Flashing billboards, sick regret, babe Flaming stupor superjet I see her in pink lunette, babe Yeah Well, Manfred climbed into my nape Wrapped up in magnetic tape All my life, magnetic tape Falling Man And it chop, chop, chop, chop Chop, chop, chop, chop Chopped up like Richter's Atlas I'm fading away My position in space Away A Chekhovian smile A Chekhovian smile A Chekhovian smile of last orchards A Chekhovian smile of last orchards Softened mother's face Ooh Softened mother's face Softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the Star Coney Island, Richter's Atlas Never, never, never, never know who you are A taste of chilled anisette, babe Looking good in pink lunette, maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret A flaming superjet Looking good in pink lunettes Ooh A Chekhovian smile A Chekhovian smile A Chekhovian smile of last orchards, yeah Softened mother's face Softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the Star My position in space Fading, fading, fading Fading, fading, fading A taste of chilled anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunette, maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret, baby A flaming superjet, wild pink lunettes Manfred climbed into my nape, whoa Wrapped up in magnetic tape In my life, magnetic tape Falling in magnetic tape Maybe, maybe Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of those pink lunettes Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Screaming and dreaming Screaming Those pink lunettes Softened mother's face Softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the Star Coney Island, Richter's Atlas Never, never, never, never know who you are A taste of chilled anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunette, maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret A flaming superjet But I see her in pink lunettes I should run and hide Or die in the generational divide It's getting wild We'll fall in the generational divide Was I born too late For the golden days of my nanny state? We never cried On my side of the generational divide |
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