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Zanussi Cutprice Rock

by Dead Cars

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about

This track is in praise of white goods - washing machines, microwaves, you know the kind of thing.

lyrics

Fill my house with soporific things,
Wood and plastic. Glass and gold.
Fill me days with trying to get these things
White white metal and oh oh oh oh

Well I blink about twice and your staring at my face again
Your lips are like ships and everybody's gonna fall
Move like a hero. Sing like a president.
Talk like a ruminant cos it's cool cool cool

Celine, my dear,
I think I made it pretty clear
That I don't wanna see you
But Oh my god I'm love sick again now.

This is the sound of me all grown up.
This is the sound of me all grown up.
This is the sound of me all grown up.
This is the sound of me all grown up.

Well if the future's then I wanna be a rich man
Throwing out all my old things
Getting something new
New kinds of cereal, a constant in my life
New kind of starlight, well it's cool cool cool

Fill my house with soporific things,
Wood and plastic. Glass and gold.
Fill me days with trying to get these things
White white metal and oh oh oh oh

Well I blink about twice and your staring at my face again
Your lips are like ships and everybody's gonna fall
Move like a hero. Sing like a president.
Talk like a ruminant cos it's cool cool cool

Celine, my dear,
I think I made it pretty clear
That I don't wanna see you
But Oh my god I'm love sick again now.

I want to be a good boy
I want to have a real good soul
I want to get simple, want to do what I've been told
I want to have a moment, and the moment to not get cold,
I want to quit glory, want to fill all of my holes.
And if I see heaven, and believe what I have seen,
I wanna just stay down, want to quit what might have been
And if I get a heartbeat, going deep inside of me
I want to just lay down, cos a heart is all I need.

credits

released May 17, 2011
Recorded by Chris, mastered by Church Road Studios.

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all rights reserved

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about

Dead Cars Brighton, UK

Dead Cars are 4 socially maladjusted men from Brighton who hang out and make wonky pop music. If they were cooler they'd have haircuts and lifestyles and dreadful taste in music. As it is they're awkward and a bit angry and so write tunes about murdering the neighbours and owning too many sofas.

Get in touch at deadcars@gmx.com
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