you know i used to call my baby up

and we'd get real close

just like the telephone was a sofa

and our thoughts would mingle

and we'd leave our minds wide open

like a big window in the evening air

and we'd say,

'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'

'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'

but these days, even saying, 'hello? how are you?'

'i'm fine, how are you?' takes a lot of sweat



ain't that a shame

ain't that a shame

but in linctus house

in my flesh hotel

i don't care anymore



you know my baby and me

as kimberley would say

we'd curl up like two dogs

in front of a fire

and our eyes would reflect each other

in the warm long heat of love

yeah, the warm long heat of love

and i would hear the rain falling

on the leaves outside

i could'nt stand to close the window

'cos i'd shiver if i left her side

but now i'd shake if we should meet

and i spend most of my time in the bushes



ain't that a shame

know what you're doing

ain't that a shame

know what you've done

but in linctus house

in my flesh hotel

i don't care anymore



'i understand how everything sometimes

turns out to be nothing,' you say

but i wonder if you do

and if we understood each other

there'd be no need to talk

but even that, even talking is out of reach

should i say it with flowers or

should i say it with nails?

i'm not the kind to push you around

but i don't want to make myself vulnerable

and if i was on my knees

you'd have a pretty good view of my skull

and i happen to know you're carrying a chisel



but in linctus hotel

in my flesh hotel

i don't care anymore

no

in linctus house

in my flesh hotel

i don't care



ain't that a shame

know what you're doing

ain't that a shame

know what you've done