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Suite Bergamasque, L. 75: III. Clair de lune

de Horse Feathers

Lyin' on the floor and through your teeth
Tell me where you've gone, speak softly
Crawlin' from the dark up to your feet
Tell me where you've gone, speak gently

Crawlin' from the dark up to your feet
Tell me where you've gone, speak softly
Tell me where you've gone, and what you've done
A fever keeps on comin', I want none

Are you true to me?
Are these vows we say profane?
Are you true to me?
Are these vows we make obscene?

Heathens kiss softly
From their mouthes there's nothing
They cruelly come gently
With violent lips smashing
Heathens kiss softly

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