October 18th 1976 feat. Coldman by Qixote Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Why don’t we take a piece of summer sky & hang it from a tree?
(You ever meet a guy, I’ll hang him from a tree.)
You ever see a guy I’ll put him on his knees
Pull out my thing and say, “Bonapetít”
Maybe that’s a bit excessive (like twenty-two Hector Lavoe records
Playin’ on a single Panasonic record player). I am not a player;
I ain’t for aggression; long as you don’t ask too many questions
I would love to play with you, late night hang with you
Long as you don’t need addressing we can pour the salad dressing
On the Cesar. May I miss the bowl and instead pour it
Into the chest crevice between your breasts?
‘Cause from where I satiate you look like a plate
And I ain’t never been patient; I put the I in “wait”
Wait, I wasn’t done, lady—
“Don’t call me lady.”
How ‘bout girl/baby/world/crazy/earth?
How ‘bout girl, maybe your bait has worked. Save me
How ‘bout girl I’ll work so hard that 70 hours is lazy
Heavenly hours await us. We’ll stuff our noses with powder
Whiter than Oscar Meyer flour then wait ‘till
Our wings sprout and we become flowered bouquets
[Chorus]
I ain’t never felt this way about hojaldres (let alone a fucking gyal)
I ain’t never felt this way about queso blanco (let alone a fucking blanca)
I just wanna eat you up, girl, you the entrée (I don’t care too much what mom say)
Never mind my kids up in a different country (I’ll make sure to send them money)
Why don’t we take a piece of summer sky & hang it from a tree?
(You ever meet a guy, I’ll hang him from a tree.)
You ever see a guy I’ll put him on his knees
Pull out my thing and say, “Bonapetít”
Maybe that’s a bit excessive (like twenty-two Hector Lavoe records
Playin’ on a single Panasonic record player). I am not a player;
I ain’t for aggression; long as you don’t ask too many questions
I would love to play with you, late night hang with you
Long as you don’t need addressing we can pour the salad dressing
On the Cesar. May I miss the bowl and instead pour it
Into the chest crevice between your breasts?
‘Cause from where I satiate you look like a plate
And I ain’t never been patient; I put the I in “wait”
Wait, I wasn’t done, lady—
“Don’t call me lady.”
How ‘bout girl/baby/world/crazy/earth?
How ‘bout girl, maybe your bait has worked. Save me
How ‘bout girl I’ll work so hard that 70 hours is lazy
Heavenly hours await us. We’ll stuff our noses with powder
Whiter than Oscar Meyer flour then wait ‘till
Our wings sprout and we become flowered bouquets
[Chorus]
I ain’t never felt this way about hojaldres (let alone a fucking gyal)
I ain’t never felt this way about queso blanco (let alone a fucking blanca)
I just wanna eat you up, girl, you the entrée (I don’t care too much what mom say)
Never mind my kids up in a different country (I’ll make sure to send them money)