Let me tell you
tell me something
tell me what it is you do

give me something
time or someone
someone worth my talking to

I've paid
I'm owned
I'm set
I'm over
I'm talking to you
in bar code

Piaf, Marlowe, Dylan
Thomas, all those beats
who could be played
by Tom Waits. Made a
mess of their lives.
No regrets? Well, of course.

Cover me with love affairs,
cover me with roses,
colour me with burnt sienna,
show me where my heart is,
kiss it away,
kiss it away,
leaning on the stairs in your sweet house.

You can make me
seem like you
OK I like you

you can me me like you
OK I'm like you
but that's not all there is

How do you want to
describe this? Why?
Draw yourself a painting
from someone else's well head.
Buy one. Steal one
and give money
to the artist anonymously,
but ...

... cover me with love affairs,
cover me with roses,
colour me with burnt sienna,
show me where it all is.

How your picture is here,
it's in my head.
It's sent from an ocean,
a gender apart.
Elvis sings Return to Sender,
runs his wheel,
we all get younger.
Love is thirst,
sex is hunger,
all that reads as one for the road.

Listen to me,
listen to me talking,
talking to you in bar code,

I'll talk you,
talk me a bargain,
seal me with a kiss and take me home.

Correct these lyrics

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