Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Son


Interface


Niveau de difficulté


Accent



langue de l'interface

fr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Politique de cookies   |   Soutien   |   FAQ
1
s'inscrire / se connecter
Lyrkit

faire un don

5$

Lyrkit

faire un don

10$

Lyrkit

faire un don

20$

Lyrkit

Et/Ou soutenez-moi sur les réseaux sociaux. réseaux:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Marilyn Manson

The Telephone

 

The Telephone

(album: The Beaver Meat Cleaver Beat - 1990)


Another night of too much cough syrup
I am awakened by the incessant ringing of the telephone
I still have dreams caked in the corners of my eyes and
My mouth is dry and tastes shitty

Again—the ringing. Slowly, I bustle out of bed
The remnants of an erection still lingering in
My shorts like a bothersome guest

Again the ringing. Carefully I abscond to the bathroom
So as to not display my manhood to others
There I make the perfunctory morning faces
Which always seem to precede my daily contribution to
The once-blue toilet water that I always enjoy making green

Again the ringing. I shake twice like most others
As I am annoyed by the dribble that always seems to remain
Causing a small acreage of wetness on the front of my briefs
I slowly, languidly, lazily, crazily stumble into the den where
My father smokes his guitars—I mean cigars—In his easy chair
I know all about easy chairs. And then I sing a song for my friends:

"Jesus is my boyfriend
Jesus is my boyfriend
You can't have him
Because Jesus is my boyfriend"

Ringing, ringing. Dang it goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch is ringing
I walk into the kitchen and I stare blankly at that shrieking plastic bastard
Since it keeps ringing I know it's her
And since it keeps ringing she knows it's me

We are the world, we are the children
We are the ones who make a darker day
So let's start killing
There's a choice you're making
We're sparing our own lives
It's true we'll make a darker day
Just you and me

fait

Avez-vous ajouté tous les mots inconnus de cette chanson ?