Vārdi: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. Babe, You Turn Me On.
Stay by me, stay by me
You are the one, my only true love
The butcher bird makes it's noise
And asks you to agree
With it's brutal nesting habits
And it's pointless savagery
Now, the nightingale sings to you
And raises up the ante
I put one hand on your round ripe heart
And the other down your panties
Everything is falling, dear
Everything is wrong
It's just history repeating itself
And babe, you turn me on
Like a light bulb
Like a song
You race naked through the wilderness
You torment the birds and the bees
You leapt into the abyss, but find
It only goes up to your knees
I move stealthily from tree to tree
I shadow you for hours
I make like I'm a little deer
Grazing on the flowers
Everything is collapsing, dear
All moral sense has gone
It's just history repeating itself
And babe, you turn me on
Like an idea
Like an Atom bomb
We stand awed inside a clearing
We do not make a sound
The crimson snow falls all about
Carpeting the ground
Everything is falling, dear
All rhyme and reason gone
It's just history repeating itself
And, babe, you turn me on
Like an idea
Like an Atom bomb
You are the one, my only true love
The butcher bird makes it's noise
And asks you to agree
With it's brutal nesting habits
And it's pointless savagery
Now, the nightingale sings to you
And raises up the ante
I put one hand on your round ripe heart
And the other down your panties
Everything is falling, dear
Everything is wrong
It's just history repeating itself
And babe, you turn me on
Like a light bulb
Like a song
You race naked through the wilderness
You torment the birds and the bees
You leapt into the abyss, but find
It only goes up to your knees
I move stealthily from tree to tree
I shadow you for hours
I make like I'm a little deer
Grazing on the flowers
Everything is collapsing, dear
All moral sense has gone
It's just history repeating itself
And babe, you turn me on
Like an idea
Like an Atom bomb
We stand awed inside a clearing
We do not make a sound
The crimson snow falls all about
Carpeting the ground
Everything is falling, dear
All rhyme and reason gone
It's just history repeating itself
And, babe, you turn me on
Like an idea
Like an Atom bomb
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
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