Algeria Touchshriek

My name is Mr. Touchshriek
Of Touchshriek with mail over and fantasy
My shop sells egg shells off the shesores and empty females
I'm thinking of leasing the room above my shop
To a Mr. Walloff Domburg
A reject from the world wide Internet
He's a broken man
I'm also a broken man
It would be nice to have company
We could have great conversations
Looking through windows for demons
And watching the young advance in all electric
Some of the houses around here still have
inhabitants in them
I'm not sure if they're from this country or not
I don't get to speak much to anyone or that sort of thing
If I had another broken name
Oh, I dream of something like that

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Где-то в городе далеком детства Я жила с подругой по соседству. Длинные локоны цвета пшеницы, Хрупкие руки, большие ресницы - Королева, ах, королева! Пронеслись года над головою, Что же они сделали

In the chilly hours and minutes of uncertainty I long to be In the warm hold of your loving mind To feel you all around me And to take your hand, along the sand Ah,

Haven't slept in a week My bed has become my coffin Cannot breath, cannot speak My head's like a bomb, still waiting Take my heart and take my soul I don't need them anymore The one

Ohh you got me shaking To that moan you made last night Ohh my body's aching From that naked summer light Oh my mind's setting you on It's just a game we play High heels have