This truck stop: rancid gravy
A man with no hands waving
And the dog 'round my leg bumps and grinds
It rains for miles out there
On mud and tar and still air
And the fungus-lined gap between stinking towns
Pork-Eyes got him a brand new hand
He's gonna grasp you
He won't ask you
And he'll tell you it's all your fault
[CHORUS:]
The cup runneth over, your jaws to bless
On the white-knuckle express
She is [grace?] naked, I cannot see her face
She slides across me
I am wearing a collar and a tie
We're tuneful, cute and giving
See, that's how we make our living
In a hall full of corpses, we'd smile and bounce on
Some say it's aimless bullshit
But they come from big houses and budgets
And, although I don't look it, I'm getting really f*cking old
Pork-Eyes, in the presence of a sweet young girl:
He's gonna spill you, it better thrill you,
Or he'll tear this place apart
Pork-Eyes! We're going up! Feet-first, feet-first!
And the legend on that girl's thigh reads
Fatima Mansions - The White Knuckle Express Lyrics
Fatima Mansions - The White Knuckle Express Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
This truck stop: rancid gravy
A man with no hands waving
And the dog 'round my leg bumps and grinds
It rains for miles out there
On mud and tar and still air
And the fungus-lined gap between stinking towns
Pork-Eyes got him a brand new hand
He's gonna grasp you
He won't ask you
And he'll tell you it's all your fault
[CHORUS:]
The cup runneth over, your jaws to bless
On the white-knuckle express
She is [grace?] naked, I cannot see her face
She slides across me
I am wearing a collar and a tie
We're tuneful, cute and giving
See, that's how we make our living
In a hall full of corpses, we'd smile and bounce on
Some say it's aimless bullshit
But they come from big houses and budgets
And, although I don't look it, I'm getting really f*cking old
Pork-Eyes, in the presence of a sweet young girl:
He's gonna spill you, it better thrill you,
Or he'll tear this place apart
Pork-Eyes! We're going up! Feet-first, feet-first!
And the legend on that girl's thigh reads
A man with no hands waving
And the dog 'round my leg bumps and grinds
It rains for miles out there
On mud and tar and still air
And the fungus-lined gap between stinking towns
Pork-Eyes got him a brand new hand
He's gonna grasp you
He won't ask you
And he'll tell you it's all your fault
[CHORUS:]
The cup runneth over, your jaws to bless
On the white-knuckle express
She is [grace?] naked, I cannot see her face
She slides across me
I am wearing a collar and a tie
We're tuneful, cute and giving
See, that's how we make our living
In a hall full of corpses, we'd smile and bounce on
Some say it's aimless bullshit
But they come from big houses and budgets
And, although I don't look it, I'm getting really f*cking old
Pork-Eyes, in the presence of a sweet young girl:
He's gonna spill you, it better thrill you,
Or he'll tear this place apart
Pork-Eyes! We're going up! Feet-first, feet-first!
And the legend on that girl's thigh reads
Writer: CATHAL COUGHLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group