All Her Favorite Fruit (orchestral) Lyrics & Tabs by Camper Van Beethoven

All Her Favorite Fruit (orchestral)

guitar chords lyrics

Camper Van Beethoven

Album : Cigarettes & Carrot Juice: The Santa Cruz YearsPlayStop

I drive alone, home from work
And I always think of her
Late at night I call her

But I never say a word
And I can see her squeeze the phone between her chin and shoulder
And I can almost smell her breath faint with a sweet scent of decay
She serves him mashed potatoes
And she serves him peppered steak, with corn
Pulls her dress up over her head
Lets it fall to the floor
And does she ever whisper in his ear all her favorite fruit
And all the most exotic places they are cultivated
And I'd like to take her there, rather than this train
And if I weren't a civil servant, I'd have a place in the colonies
We'd play croquet behind white-washed walls and drink our tea at four

And I'd like to take her there, rather than this train
And if I weren't a civil servant, I'd have a place in the colonies
We'd play croquet behind white-washed walls and drink our tea at four
Within intervention's distance of the embassy
The midday air grows thicker with the heat
And drifts towards the line of trees
Where negroes blink their eyes, they sink into siesta
And we are rotting like a fruit underneath a rusting roof
We dream our dreams and sing our songs of the fecundity of life and love
Of life and love
Of life and love

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