Is that you, my Lord?
Hands on my knee, my Lord?
Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?
Asking me to leave with you?
Oh, my Lord
Is that you, my Lord?
Hands on my knee, my Lord?
Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?
Asking me to leave with you,
My Lord?
I freaked at the festival
I'm almost sick again
Our memories are sighed away
All the TVs are stoned
It's no construct for prayer
Is that you, my Lord?
Hands on my knee, my Lord?
Fingers running up my sleeve, my Lord?
Asking me to leave with you,
Oh, my Lord?
I freaked at the festival
I'm almost sick again
Our memories are found again
All the telephones are stoned
It's no construct for prayer
Bitch you know it's got to bounce
Don't lie to me, Charlies
I hardly know you
I know enough to stay away
No row boat for you
Wishes granting
Out of date
Don't lie to me, Charlies
I hardly know you
I know enough, enough to stay away
No row boat for you
Don't lie to me, Charlies
I hardly know you
Holiday Call Lyrics performed by Of Montreal are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Holiday Call Lyrics performed by Of Montreal is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD