Texty: Julien Doré. Pudding Morphina.

And I was born dead in your home
Watching TV mum you're welcome
Into my car smelling pudding morphina

Wearing my elesses you should come
And eat all pets you could find
Between my sick teeth of monkey town

My sick brain
Is leaving my hand
My sick brain
Is squeezing my name

My feet are smelling like beer and bread
My nose ives funk rythm to them
Between my big balls of business man

I was learning in my bed
When you told me you were drunk
Thank you pudding morphina

And I'm fucking on Madonna
And I'm fucking on Sri Lanka
And I' m boring of your face
I'm still wearing your dress
In my room of Bambi Buddha
In my room of Bambi Buddha

And I was born in morphina
Ihad to learn to breath and swim
Into my glasses of hospital
I'll send you stolen flowers
By UPS car in your bath
At thirty six cuckold avenue

My sick brain
Is leaving my hand
My sick brain
Is squeezing my name

And I was born in morphina
I had to learn to breath and swim
In to my glass of hospital

(Merci a Dan pour cettes paroles)