THAT BLACK BAT LICORICE | Тesto e Тraduzione (al clic)

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What?

Behave yourself

You need to behave yourself, boy

Yeah, she's built for speed like a black castrum doloris

Good for the needy, like Nietzsche, Freud and Horace

But I'm skin, flint, broke, making no money, making jokes

But baby, I won't joke with you

My feet are burning like a Roman hypocaust

But the Romans are gone, they changed their name because they lost

She writes letters like a Jack Chick comic

Just a bunch of propaganda, make my fingers histrionic; like this, and this

I mean, she's my baby

But she makes me get avuncular

And when my monkey is jumping

I got no time for making up for her

I fantasize about the hospital

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Jack White – That Black Bat Licorice testo e traduzione (al clic) in italiano