lirik lagu the burning hell - celebrities in cemeteries
shirtless jim morrison and his floridian bedroom eyes gaze
from a postcard pinned to the gate round his grave at the père~lachaise
immortal hormones above, or bones below:
which one’s the real lizard king? baby, i don’t know
let’s leave an offering of this compact disc of “strange days” with the cracked jewel case
you suggest we pay our respects to oscar wilde, after all, he’s not far
they’ve put glass round his tomb to prevent lipstick kiss au revoirs
but i’m undetеrred, so i smooch the barrier
you say gross, you’ll catch syphilis or somеthing scarier
let’s be on our way, we’re all in the gutter, but some of us are looking for a bar
celebrities in cemeteries
let’s go see where they are buried
all access passes six feet underground
unlike the unknown and the nameless
a hidden perk of being famous:
you get visitors long after you’re no fun to be around
as per his wishes, gram parsons’ assistant burned his body in joshua tree
a diy funeral, by all accounts beautiful, but his family thought it was obscene
and now we’re sort of butchering the harmonies in “hickory wind”
in this suburban cemetery as we sing it to him
a for effort i say, we’ve come all the way to the outskirts of new orleans, to get a look at
celebrities in cemeteries
let’s go see where they are buried
all access passes six feet underground
unlike the unknown and the nameless
a hidden perk of being famous:
you get visitors long after you’re no fun to be around
in oklahoma i know a spot under watchful stone elephant eyes
where trapeze artists, ringmasters, and other circus folk go when they die
you’re surprised to discover they get visitors often
but everybody wants to know how many clowns fit in a coffin
and we’re all walking the tightrope of life between here and the big top in the sky
but it occurs to me i’ve never heard of the great huberto before
here i am at his grave and i’m sad that he’s muerto, and i want to know more
so baby when i go, whatever the cost is
build me a great golden monument, please make it preposterous
maybe a bust or a statue on a marble mausoleum, you get the idea, i just wanna be a
celebrity in a cemetery
they’ll all come see me where i’m buried
once anonymous and nameless
i’ll be posthumously famous
hey, you know who i appreciate?
karl marx in highgate
nico’s buried in berlin
but i don’t know i’ve never been
jimi hendrix near seattle
parking there can be a battle
serge gainsbourg in montparnasse
i left gauloise and cool sunglasses
writer’s that i’ve never read
morrissey? he’s not dead
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