I'd look at you, and perhaps you'll smile at me Loving my kaleidoscope world The stars and planets just glide on by Cold and patient like white gods'
I sit here and wonder I wonder what's out there I wonder what's out there? I hope they can hear me (3x) Chorus I'm making plans for the great escape The
Stay in bed till much too late Scanning situations vacant The face in the mirror looks withered and old My skin is grey - I can't go out - I'm always
Satin doll Satin doll Satin doll Satin doll She was just my little satin doll I met her down by the blossom tree She has beauty like the moon far beyond
[instrumental]
We wander lost forgotten hills Blue sky, green grass, we are still The mists enfold us gently smelling Breeze in our ears softly telling of the days of
I've been searching for the hidden bay well it's a long long way, the hidden bay My baby's bathing in the hidden bay well she bathes all day in the month
Tell me a story, tell me a story, let me drift Tell me a story, tell me a story, let me drift Make me think I'm not really in this place Let your words
I've got chills. they're multiplyin'. Strange vibrations in my head And I can feel disintegration Like flies livin' in my bed Ow There were three dots
I'm searching for a change of pace Trying to put away all these names Tell you how it all works out I'm terrible on the phone It's better when it's us
(ron wood, ronnie lane) I shake and I shudder and I shiver In my bath while it's cold and my windows are broken, As my poor dog lays a-chokin' on the
Nothing ever changes Except your scenery rearrangements In the affectionate hands of horsepower assault Best keep your pants on, boy behind the armour
All this time I've been unclean Watching you 'cause you're watching me Shotgun knives into my heart without a reason All I want is to never die Fuck
Light another cigarette And maybe by the end of it you'll have changed Make a mental note to self To dig a deeper wishing well next year Still, you are
Hold the gun Way deep down Look out young son Look out young son Good thing's coming 'Cause the good thing's coming Shotguns with no guns Shot army with
Nothing hurts like the truth, a piece of perfidy, a deceitful behaviour, women's lures, deserted like an empty corpse, an uneasy conscience. Stigmatised
It loves to keep you on your knees Begging baby, baby please I reek of the scent of a sinner I breathe the ache to be in you again And it's just not enough
CHILLS WRITERS GERRY GOFFIN, JACK KELLER (chilly, chilly, wah-wah-wah-wah) (chilly, chilly, wah-wah-wah-wah) Chills, runnin' up and down my spine Well