Killed Out by The Jazz Butcher Lyrics

A hot little boy in the Santa Sofia
( a morgue in Istanbul )
At eleven-o'clock in the morning
Under the dome with a hangover head
It's that little boy's first date with the monster

And I sulk Don't be talkin' to me
I sulk Like a deportee
I sulk I got a eggiweg head
It's gonna be a while till I get out of your bed

Killed out Flat on my back
Killed out But I don't care

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, you're the one
Dead as a post and twice as much fun

So much effort for a stupid noise
And your mother bakes cakes real slow in the afternoon sun
The big drum is a wonderful sound
And there it is - Killed out
Alcohol and the American artist
Alcohol and the American artist
Edgar Allen Poe and Dorothy Parker
I wanna be an American artist
I'm vacant
I haven't got a lot on my mind
I like sonic the phonebook
I haven't got a lot on my mind
I'm vacant
Don't waste time tryin' to get to me
No no no no

Cause I sulk I'm gonna bite your face
I sulk I fill your world with Mace
I sulk I'm in need of a shave
I sulk Yeah from beyond the grave

Killed out Well I'm flat on my back
Killed out I don't care

No sex no drugs no science no sin
If your name's down here then you're going straight in
No sex no drugs no science no sin
Welcome to eternity - Blame it on Sting

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, you're the one
Dead as a post and twice as much fun. (x4)