of Montreal — Après Thee Dèclassè

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Текст of Montreal — Après Thee Dèclassè

I was a pussy in case he’s a cunt
Mood is a friend
And I hope that it brings you down
I hope it brings you down
I was offensive or he was a twat
A face in the ground
And I hope it brings you down
I hope it brings you down
Nobody asked you pretend like you care
There’s a splinter in your gown
And I hope that it brings you down
(yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
I hope it brings you down

I’m glad that it’s gruesome bloody remnants of Alice Ann Bailey
Unsweetened for your displeasure
Wheezing competitors, I have a hunch that knowledge is arrived at through abstraction
Music languishes in restive air
Earth angel, abuse my substance
Sex gelatin miasma (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)

Blavatskian Millenarian movement of theosophist scorned
Through mediumistic contact every tree
Dreams of blotting out the sky
She’s in his thorn of crowns
And I hope that it brings you down
(hopes that it brings you down, brings you down)
Is it important to say black chrome rodents?
I really hope it brings you down
Even love has cold hands
When logic is the enemy

Incentives to return into the sea caves
Joro spiders menacing the eves
Foreign voices beading on my hands and
I am the demiurge of dead books

One more story of Lovers Rock
What’s your worst trance?
I score to hold you in perfect hexagram
I am a de-activist
Like birds of paradise lost
I can’t wait until you love my rose