|
Additional Info
|
|
|
Song Rating:
|
9.4
/ 10 by 17 users
|
Please sign in to rate this song.
|
|
Song ID:
|
75505
|
(Yeah-heah) Through the screen door, your thoughts are quarantined;
(Yeah-heah) and by the way you smell, I can tell that you're fifteen.
(Yeah-heah) My name is Denver Max, and I eat heart attacks.
(Yeah-heah) From your mouth to your hands to the floor you're bubbling syntax.
'Cause what crickets see, is between, you and me.
Yeah what scarecrows think, would it turn your eyeballs pink.
Don't you try to call the cops you little girl, cops little girl, before you pick up the phone, you'll be dead.
Don't you try to call the cops you little girl, cops little girl, your tounge is withered, it's heavier than lead.
Won't you just step into the car little girl, car little girl, your parents don't understand what's in your head.
We're really onto something special little girl, such a little girl, you're blushing red your head can't hide those thoughts of dread.
(Yeah-heah) Through the screen door, I kiss me like a queen;
(Yeah-heah) it tastes like metal in my mouth, rusty listerine.
(Yeah-heah) My name is Denver Max, please excuse the mask;
(Yeah-heah) running down my face, bound by tacks and paste.
'Cause what crickets see, is between, you and me
Yeah what scarecrows think, would it turn your eyeballs pink, turn your eyeballs pink?
And with a face like that, you're never ever gonna make it big.
You'll never find a boyfriend, unless you get it, adjusted.
(Yeah-heah) My name is Denver Max, won't you come sit on my lap?
(Yeah-heah) because the only thing you own, is everything you lack.
Don't you try to call the cops you little girl, cops little girl, before you pick up the phone, you'll be dead.
Don't you try to call the cops you little girl, cops little girl, your tounge is withered, it's heavier than lead.
Won't you just step into the car little girl, car little girl, your parents don't understand what's in your head.
We're really onto something special little girl, special little girl, you're blushing red your head can't hide those thoughts of dread.
Time we hit Tuscon your parents little girl, parents little girl, be wondering where their pretty little blonde has gone.
Time we hit Mexico you'll know little girl, know little girl, that Denver Max will always be the only one.
Time we hit the ocean we'll jump little girl, jump little girl, down to find the undersea sun.
|
|
Song Facts
|
|
|
Johnny Whitney recorded additional guitars on "Salesman, Denver Max".
|
|
submitted by Lancer.sdP
|
|