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Song «Pepper» von Butthole Surfers.
Fakten
Veröffentlichungsdaten: 1996 05 14 (Single), 1996 (Single)
Label: Capitol CDP 7243 8 29842 2 1, Capitol DPRO 7087 6 11309 2 8
Songwriter King Coffey & Gibby Haynes & Paul Leary & Jeffrey Pinkus
Produktion: Steve Thompson
Genre: Alternativerock - Crossover, Alternativerock - Poprock
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Personen und Querverweise
Butthole Surfers
King Coffey
Gibby Haynes
Paul Leary
Jeffrey Pinkus
Steve Thompson
Lyrics
Marky got with Sharon And Sharon got Cherese She was sharing Sharon's outlook On the topic of disease Mikey had a facial scar And Bobby was a racist They were all in love with dyin' They were doing it in Texas Tommy played piano Like a kid out in the rain Then he lost his leg in Dallas He was dancing with a train They were all in love with dyin' They were drinking from a fountain That was pouring like an avalanche Coming down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes The images it shows I can taste you on my lips And smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary And softly spoken lies You never know just how you look Through other people's eyes Some will die in hot pursuit And fiery auto crashes Some will die in hot pursuit While sifting through my ashes Some will fall in love with life And drink it from a fountain That is pouring like an avalanche Coming down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes The images it shows I can taste you on my lips And smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary And softly spoken lies You never know just how you look Through other people's eyes (In Reverse: I don't mind the sun sometimes The images it shows You never know just how you look Through other people's eyes) Another Mikey took a knife While arguing in traffic Flipper died a natural death He caught a nasty virus Then there was the ever-present Football player rapist They were all in love with dyin' They were doing it in Texas Pauly caught a bullet But it only hit his leg Well it should have been a better shot And got him in the head They were all in love with dyin' They were drinking from a fountain That was pouring like an avalanche Coming down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes The images it shows I can taste you on my lips And smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary And softly spoken lies You never know just how you look Through other people's eyes