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letra de for flotsam - los campesinos!

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you say you are an old c-ssette that has gone and spilt its spool
you’re far more like a wet cardboard tube on this nightclub toilet floor.
as i describe my lonely, you listen very clear:
the last set of goalposts taken down, summer of odd numbered year.

she says “if you’re unhappy, then you gotta find the cure”
well i prescribe me one more beer, beyond that i am unsure
may not be be all and end all, in my defence she is the whole
i’ve thrown my goalkeeper forward, she’s catenaccio

flotsam, jetsam and spindrift: all the girls i have loved,
dumped to earth by a spendthrift, gilt angels from above.
and i saw god in the bathroom, i baptised him in sick
embraced him around his cistern “c’est la mort!, enough of this”.

knees knocking and
blood flowing so
i want you to know that i want to.

and later she said something that stuck hard in my mind:
“we are their capel celyn, they gotta keep their slippers dry,
to empathise with tory’s to invite upon disease,
a safer bet’s to pack your bags, go holiday in eyam”

i will take you where the sun shines, cast shadows on your face,
crawl into their deepest recess, ’til i freeze or dehydrate
we’ll live and breathe it in real time, montage is for the dead
and my heart’s still doing fosburys nowhere near finished yet

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