The Crimea

White Russian Galaxy

The Crimea


Straight out of high school 
And into the jungle 
Searching for Tarzan who might be dad 
You kick like a mule 
Short of an Oscar 
Screaming blue murder at newly weds 

Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head 
Who knows 

You talk like a fish 
In nonsensical bubbles 
Then blow the word bitch through 
your smoke ring 
You cause only trouble 
You bring only suffering 
Just get in the spaceship 
and stop bleeding 

Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head 
Who knows 

why do you never sing in church on Sundays 
Why won't you ever go all the way You're floating towards heavenly hell 
hanging from the rafters like a church bell 
You're light years away from reality 
Lonely and lost in a White Russian Galaxy 

Who knows Who knows what goes on in her pretty little head