The Peacock Song by Bif Naked Lyrics
My mind's an ashtray full of ashes
Lick the tears from my eyelashes
Oh, whatever will I see that's good
He plays a really mean guitar
She smokes a really big cigar
I'd love to love ya, if only I could
Her love is, oh so, shiny wet
Keeps a bald peacock for a pet
Can you ever understand how I feel?
Miss Jenifa, my private dancer
Miss Nina, to whom I answer
Kari says we're the only ones who are real
So, when I dream on Sunday mornin'
And my lover right beside me keeps on snorin'
I wonder if my dog's in heaven
And I wonder when I'll see her again
Psycho-pharmacology
Has never found a friend in me
But I'll eat sugar cubes all day and night
Those ducklings are never ugly
So, she sells herself by the sea
I'll bake her a cake, be it wrong or right
The caterpillar and the spider
Turn the screws a little tighter
Can you ever understand my feeling?
Gail G., my inspiration
Miss Denise should run the nation
Isabel tortures me with sex appeal
So, when I dream on Sunday mornin'
And my lover right beside me keeps on snorin'
I wonder if my dog's in heaven
And I wonder when I'll see her again
(Yer really takin' me fer a ride
Yer a wise guy, anyway
I never had a place to hide except my brain!)
Lick the tears from my eyelashes
Oh, whatever will I see that's good
He plays a really mean guitar
She smokes a really big cigar
I'd love to love ya, if only I could
Her love is, oh so, shiny wet
Keeps a bald peacock for a pet
Can you ever understand how I feel?
Miss Jenifa, my private dancer
Miss Nina, to whom I answer
Kari says we're the only ones who are real
So, when I dream on Sunday mornin'
And my lover right beside me keeps on snorin'
I wonder if my dog's in heaven
And I wonder when I'll see her again
Psycho-pharmacology
Has never found a friend in me
But I'll eat sugar cubes all day and night
Those ducklings are never ugly
So, she sells herself by the sea
I'll bake her a cake, be it wrong or right
The caterpillar and the spider
Turn the screws a little tighter
Can you ever understand my feeling?
Gail G., my inspiration
Miss Denise should run the nation
Isabel tortures me with sex appeal
So, when I dream on Sunday mornin'
And my lover right beside me keeps on snorin'
I wonder if my dog's in heaven
And I wonder when I'll see her again
(Yer really takin' me fer a ride
Yer a wise guy, anyway
I never had a place to hide except my brain!)