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

And 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