歌词

Harry was a rich young man who would become a priest He dug up his dear father who was recently deceased He did it with tarot cards and a mystically attuned mind And shortly there and after he did find Jeanne was a spoiled young brat, she thought she knew it all She smoked mentholated cigarettes, and she had sex in the hall But she is not my kind or even of my sigh The kind of animal that I would be about Oh-oh-oh, you keep hanging 'round me And I'm not so glad you found me You're still doing things that I gave up years ago Oh-oh-oh, you keep hanging 'round me And I'm not so glad you found me You're still doing things that I gave up years ago Alright now, uh-uh-uh Cathy was a bit surreal, she painted all her toes And on her face she wore dentures clamped tightly to her nose And when she finally spoke her twang, her glasses broke And no one else could smoke while she was in the room Hark, the herald angels sang and reached out for a phone And plucking it with ivory hand, dialed long distance home But it was all too much, sprinkling angel dust to AT&T Who didn't wish you well Oh, but you keep hanging 'round me And I'm not so glad you found me You're still doing things that I gave up years ago Oh-oh-oh, you keep hanging 'round me And I'm not so glad you found me You're still doing things that I gave up years ago Hanging 'round, hanging 'round That's all you're doing, baby Hanging 'round, hanging 'round Hanging 'round, hanging 'round Hanging 'round, hanging 'round
Writer(s): Lou Reed Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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