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Babelogue lyrics

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<pre><font size='+2'>BABELOGUE lyrics SMITH PATTI</font><br>I haven`t fucked much with the past, but I`ve fucked plenty with the<br />
 future. Over the skin of silk are scars from the splinters of stations and<br />
 walls I`ve caressed. A stage is like each bolt of wood, like a log of<br />
 Helen, is my pleasure. I would measure the success of a night by the way<br />
 by the way by the amount of piss and seed I could exude over the columns<br />
 that nestled the P.A. Some nights I`d surprise everybody by skipping off<br />
 with a skirt of green net sewed over with flat metallic circles which<br />
 dazzled and flashed. The lights were violet and white. I had an ornamental<br />
 veil, but I couldn`t bear to use it. When my hair was cropped, I craved<br />
 covering, but now my hair itself is a veil, and the scalp inside is a<br />
 scalp of a crazy and sleepy Comanche lies beneath this netting of the<br />
 skin. I wake up. I am lying peacefully I am lying peacefully and my knees<br />
 are open to the sun. I desire him, and he is absolutely ready to seize me.<br />
 In heart I am a Moslem; in heart I am an American; in heart I am Moslem,<br />
 in heart I`m an American artist, and I have no guilt. I seek pleasure. I<br />
 seek the nerves under your skin. The narrow archway; the layers; the<br />
 scroll of ancient lettuce. We worship the flaw, the belly, the belly, the<br />
 mole on the belly of an exquisite whore. He spared the child and spoiled<br />
 the rod. I have not sold myself to God.<br><br><a href='http://www.lyricsbay.com' target='_blank'>LyricsBay</a> | <a href="http://www.lyricsbay.com/babelogue_lyrics-smith_patti.html" target='_blank'>BABELOGUE lyrics SMITH PATTI</a></pre>

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Babelogue lyrics translation:
SMITH PATTI Babelogue song texte and letras
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Babelogue lyrics

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I haven`t fucked much with the past, but I`ve fucked plenty with the
future. Over the skin of silk are scars from the splinters of stations and
walls I`ve caressed. A stage is like each bolt of wood, like a log of
Helen, is my pleasure. I would measure the success of a night by the way
by the way by the amount of piss and seed I could exude over the columns
that nestled the P.A. Some nights I`d surprise everybody by skipping off
with a skirt of green net sewed over with flat metallic circles which
dazzled and flashed. The lights were violet and white. I had an ornamental
veil, but I couldn`t bear to use it. When my hair was cropped, I craved
covering, but now my hair itself is a veil, and the scalp inside is a
scalp of a crazy and sleepy Comanche lies beneath this netting of the
skin. I wake up. I am lying peacefully I am lying peacefully and my knees
are open to the sun. I desire him, and he is absolutely ready to seize me.
In heart I am a Moslem; in heart I am an American; in heart I am Moslem,
in heart I`m an American artist, and I have no guilt. I seek pleasure. I
seek the nerves under your skin. The narrow archway; the layers; the
scroll of ancient lettuce. We worship the flaw, the belly, the belly, the
mole on the belly of an exquisite whore. He spared the child and spoiled
the rod. I have not sold myself to God.

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