Wallflower Among Women
from In Tongues by French Letters
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Compact Disc (CD) + Digital AlbumThe physical copy of this album is packaged with a book of poems that are the lyrics to the 10 songs on the album, a necessary companion to get the full "In Tongues" experience of poetry and music.
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lyrics
Wallflower Among Women
All of my go go girls... went.
Left me alone to face the ashtray gray of a newly breaking dawn,
liquor sick and lingering on the chorus of some sad song.
The remnants of her fragrance
settled over the pillow like a fine dust,
a completely new crisis for my olfactory circuitry.
-O you girls
-O you girls
always so clever, so cute.
You come over and you drink with me.
You unzip me because I'm easy like that
but you never bother to zip me back.
-O you women
-O you women
with your wonderful names, your spectacular outfits,
your boring ex-boyfriends and your always intriguing pain.
No one can create or destroy a man quite as well as a woman can
and I've been bondoed and duct taped,
moon-faced and heart raped.
I've howled at the moon until it began baying back,
stood stone tongued through her rejoinders
and drove the hurt like a Cadillac.
She...
cashes out at the end of her shift,
demanding restitution. Didn't know that serving tables
would be tip prostitution.
You know, you don't seem world weary
when you're hitting on your waitress,
you just look tanked and kind of
stupid.
You know, it's funny, she said, I took this gig for the money
but I've never felt more cheap in all my life.
You know, it's funny, she said, how your eyes quickly undress me
right here in front of your wife.
It's funny, she said, you're so certain, you're sure that I'll sleep with you
if you just tip a little more.
Walking dazed around the dining room
tied to twenty tables,
he drops hints when she drops his check.
These hours aren't so happy
and it seems like eternity to me,
they either come on too strong or they don't come on at all.
He reaches out to grab my ass as I walk past his table.
He says he's got a tip for me. He says he's got some tips for me.
The pratfalls of this industry,
cartoon wolves gawk sheepishly
with their tongues all rolling out towards me.
When we're drunk on whiskey
wilting like wall flowers,
writing our phone numbers on guest checks,
we don't seem cool or mysterious
hitting on our waitresses,
we just seem lonely and desperate.
Hey, we should get used to it,
predatorial desperate.
Hey, we should get used to it,
boring sort of dangerous.
Hey, this ain't so glamorous,
drunk and over amorous.
Hey, this don't enamor us.
-O you girls
-O you girls
always so cute, so coy.
You walk past provoking heart attacks,
my eyes burned out like cataracts,
like what Mick Jagger sang in "Paint it Black."
All of my go go girls... went.
Left me alone to face the ashtray gray of a newly breaking dawn,
liquor sick and lingering on the chorus of some sad song.
The remnants of her fragrance
settled over the pillow like a fine dust,
a completely new crisis for my olfactory circuitry.
-O you girls
-O you girls
always so clever, so cute.
You come over and you drink with me.
You unzip me because I'm easy like that
but you never bother to zip me back.
-O you women
-O you women
with your wonderful names, your spectacular outfits,
your boring ex-boyfriends and your always intriguing pain.
No one can create or destroy a man quite as well as a woman can
and I've been bondoed and duct taped,
moon-faced and heart raped.
I've howled at the moon until it began baying back,
stood stone tongued through her rejoinders
and drove the hurt like a Cadillac.
She...
cashes out at the end of her shift,
demanding restitution. Didn't know that serving tables
would be tip prostitution.
You know, you don't seem world weary
when you're hitting on your waitress,
you just look tanked and kind of
stupid.
You know, it's funny, she said, I took this gig for the money
but I've never felt more cheap in all my life.
You know, it's funny, she said, how your eyes quickly undress me
right here in front of your wife.
It's funny, she said, you're so certain, you're sure that I'll sleep with you
if you just tip a little more.
Walking dazed around the dining room
tied to twenty tables,
he drops hints when she drops his check.
These hours aren't so happy
and it seems like eternity to me,
they either come on too strong or they don't come on at all.
He reaches out to grab my ass as I walk past his table.
He says he's got a tip for me. He says he's got some tips for me.
The pratfalls of this industry,
cartoon wolves gawk sheepishly
with their tongues all rolling out towards me.
When we're drunk on whiskey
wilting like wall flowers,
writing our phone numbers on guest checks,
we don't seem cool or mysterious
hitting on our waitresses,
we just seem lonely and desperate.
Hey, we should get used to it,
predatorial desperate.
Hey, we should get used to it,
boring sort of dangerous.
Hey, this ain't so glamorous,
drunk and over amorous.
Hey, this don't enamor us.
-O you girls
-O you girls
always so cute, so coy.
You walk past provoking heart attacks,
my eyes burned out like cataracts,
like what Mick Jagger sang in "Paint it Black."
credits
from In Tongues,
released December 3, 2011
license
all rights reserved
tags
discography
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Oct 2014 -
Dec 2013 -
Jan 2013 -
Aug 2012 -
Dec 2011
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