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letra de slaters walk - malcolm hill & live flesh

one time you wake up and discover
that you’re lying in a bean bag!
you’re in a big house
in a big loungeroom
and, judging by the light creeping in the window
it’s about 4 or 5 in the morning!
empty bottles thrown about
cheese and crackers and dips used as ashtrays
intimate clothing strewn about
a lampshade gone awry

where am i?
is this my house?
whose house is this?

when you gotta go
you gotta go
make sure you gotta go
real slow

stand up!

well you decide
to get up out of that bean bag
and make your way to the front door
but when you go to move you discover that your legs are filled with concrete
they are heavier than the columns out front the national department of defence
you look down
a tom tom drum
arrives playing in your head
a bird cage that hasn’t been cleaned in two years
moves into the roof of your mouth
hey, it’s time to go
it’s time to do
the limbo
the hokey pokey
do the limbo
mind how you go

when you gotta go
you gotta go
make sure you gotta go
real slow

stand up!

stand up you fool
can’t you walk?
lift those legs, come on
do the hokey pokey, it’s time to go
what did they put in that drink?
what did they put in that drink?
what did they put in that drink?
whose house is this?
did i go to some swingin’ suburban party last night?
what did they put in that drink?

when you gotta go
you gotta go
make sure you gotta go
real slow

stand up!

and walk
that’s alright for you to say
i can’t move legs!
maybe if i crawled all the way to the built in robes
and locked myself in the cupboard and climbed up the walls;
maybe i’d be surrounded by golf slacks, personal organisers, master chef kitchens ,suburban art and decking

what did they put in that drink?
is there any train station in this suburb, i dunno…?

when you gotta go
you gotta go
make sure you gotta go
real slow

stand up!

- malcolm hill live flesh

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