Fotzepolitic

Cocteau Twins

My dreams are low, they're sick and must be drossed *

( * dross = old English for "waste")



They're young girl's dreams.



True some do it and shoot

Like the penny-lit stars

What I was just rude



Like the scary hairs on our singing hoof

Like the scary hairs on our singing hooves

They move



A family fool, but it's you,

I can swoon inside me

Then you'll accept my things



A coloured star, but I feel strong

Luck when bound lonely to Lars**

When I'm empty headed



See 'n saw bounce me back to you… Will you?

See 'n saw bounce me back to you… Will you… Oh will you?



My dreams are low, they're sick and must be drossed

They're young girl's dreams.



See 'n saw bounce me back to you… Will you?

See 'n saw bounce me back to you… Will you… Oh will you?



See 'n saw bounce me back to you

See 'n saw bounce me back to you

See 'n saw bounce me back to you

Will you?



See 'n saw bounce me back to you

See 'n saw bounce me back to you

See 'n saw bounce me back to you

Will you