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Pulp: Styloroc (Nites of Suburbia) (song)

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After many weeks in the wilderness, we came upon a strange and exotic land, a land of happy hours, where the sky is always grey, and the food exceptionally greasy. We drank strange dark brown liquids and our stomachs swelled up like balloons, a thousand fake orgasms every night, behind thick dralon curtains.

They go on and on and on and on.

We sank back into mauve PVC sofas. Outside the dogs roam the streets and the rooftops glistened in the rain, but now we've grown so fat we can no longer pass through the door, so stay we must, sprouting black hair beneath bri-nylon underwear. Yes, here we'll stay because nights of suburbia go on and on and on and on and on and on...

They go on and on and on and on and on...

Yeah, oh, I'm feeling greasy. Oh, I can't hear you. Oh, you're fading away. Oh no. Oh...

Sleeve notes

Happening in a cul-de-sac near you.



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Page last modified on October 02, 2009, at 11:35 PM