letra de black remix - talkshow boy
listen (up close) to what i told you
i don’t wanna talk because we don’t get along
collecting one dollar for a job well done
it sure beats a grand for shaking dirty hands
may yr cigarettes taste like anthrax spores
and all yr work get slashed by razors
cling to what i told ya
(do it, do it)
(good god)
(shoot thru!)
hey christine (christine?)
what do you want?
all i want’s for you to sing my name each morning
each and every syllable reciprocated by yrs truly
(adrian, you don’t know jack)
(shoot thru!)
and the couple in the next room
talking to each other thru the palms of their hands
they don’t ever care about relationships
‘cuz that kind of chatter just doesn’t factor into their equations
listen (up close) to what i told you
i don’t wanna talk because we don’t get along
collecting one dollar for a job well done
it sure beats a grand for shaking dirty hands
may yr cigarettes taste like anthrax spores
and all yr work get slashed by razors
cling (cling) to what i told ya
(do it, do it)
(good god)
(shoot thru!)
hold like a thumbtack pressed to what i told ya
ten rhymes and a pocketful of cash
i’m lost in the city i know
i know this city, i know its intricacies
(shoot thru!)
christine is a godsend
i feel like a blunt passed round close friends
i feel like tasting all yr red wine
suckling to yr grapevine
never have to care about my deadlines
listen (up close) to what i told you
i don’t wanna talk because we don’t get along
collecting one dollar for a job well done
it sure beats a grand for shaking dirty hands
may yr cigarettes taste like anthrax spores
and all yr work get slashed by razors
cling (cling) to what i told ya
(good god)
this’ll scatter back and forth across yr headphones
(we’re all going on a summer holiday)
yr sitting bolt upright in yr bed now
(we’re all going on a summer holiday)
this’ll scatter back and forth across yr headphones
(we’re all going on a summer holiday)
yr sitting bolt upright in yr bed now
(we’re all going on a summer holiday)
i’ve got genuine affection for her
i like the way she shuts me down
(alright)
each and every letter that she writes to me she signs “yrs truly”
i’m in over my head
(shoot thru!)
i like to think about an actress
i’d like to think my listeners have the sk!lls to unpack this
you’ve got my superficial details
fill in the blanks with what you ascertain from emails
listen (up close) to what i told you
i don’t wanna talk because we don’t get along
collecting one dollar for a job well done
it sure beats a grand for shaking dirty hands
may yr cigarettes taste like anthrax spores
and all yr work get slashed by razors
cling to what i told ya
(do it, do it)
(good god)
(alright)
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