You Sound Like Louis Burdett Lyrics - Singles - Whitlams

Had a little bit to drink 

Yeah, there's a little thing I want at a do out east 

Nothing too emotional, my good miss 

I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes 

Stop talking 'bout the years, you sound like Louis Burdett 

And we roll on to my backshed 

Play some poker, scratch my head 

Look at the sky and spot the planes 

Where would I go on holidays? 

Roll with the punches, down the aisles 

And down the street the weeks roll by, roll by 

I'm chewing ice and grinning, I'm spewing up and spinning 

It's biliousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen 

Hey you, don't lose that friend before we go anywhere 

What? Someone might see you alone? 

Stop bagging out the band, you sound like Louis Burdett 

And all my friends are fuck-ups 

But they're fun to have around 

Banana chairs out on the concrete 

Telling stories to the stars 

How Gemini's love Wooden Dragons, yeah 

And how down the street the weeks roll by, weeks roll by 

The moment the night wears off, the bomb site reappears 

They're all asleep but the morning tastes like wine 

It tastes like wine in Tempe, I feel so good I just might wake him up 

Pat him on the bald head, tell me about a dream Louis 

Something obscene Louis, your life's an open magazine Louis 

I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub 

Sex is everywhere but nowhere 'round me, nowhere 'round 

By the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating 

Never rains in Tempe but the planes remind me of family money 

And the lack down here 

Stop talking frustrated, 'cause I sound like Louis Burdett, yeah 

And we roll on to my backshed 

Play some poker, scratch my head 

Look at the sky and spot the planes 

Where would I go on holidays? 

Roll with the punches, down the aisles 

And down the street the weeks roll by, roll by 

Yeah, and all my friends are fuck-ups 

But they're fun to have around 

Banana chairs out on the concrete 

Telling stories to the stars 

How Gemini's love Wooden Dragons, yeah 

And how the weeks roll by 

Most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around 

Terror, like charity begins at home 

Chris don't like madness, but madness likes him 

He's got a finger in his chest 

Yeah, they're saying how it should have been 

And we roll on to my backshed 

Play some poker, scratch my head 

Look at the sky and spot the planes 

Where would I go on holidays? 

Roll with the punches, down the aisles 

Down the street the weeks roll by 

My friends are completely fucks 

But they're such fun to have around 

Banana chairs out on the concrete 

Telling stories to the stars 

How Gemini's love Wooden Dragons 

And how down the street the weeks roll by