You Sound Like Louis Burdett lyrics

by

The Whitlams


[Verse 1: Tim Freedman]
Had a little bit to drink
Yeah, there's a little thing I wanted to do out East
Nothing too emotional, my goodness I
Couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes
Stop talking 'bout the years, you sound like Louis Burdett

[Chorus 1: Tim Freedman]
And we roll on to my back shed
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

[Verse 2: Tim Freedman]
I'm chewing ice and grinning, I'm spewing up and spinning
It's billiousness as usual in my corner of the kitchen
Hey you, lose that friend before we go anywhere
What? Someone might see you alone?
Stop bagging out the band, you sound like Louis Burdett

[Chorus 2: Tim Freedman]
And all my friends are f*ckups
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

[Verse 3: Tim Freedman]
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

[Verse 4: Tim Freedman]
I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub
Sex is everywhere but nowhere 'round me
Nowhere
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

[Chorus 1: Tim Freedman]
And we roll on to my back shed
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

[Chorus 2: Tim Freedman]
Yeah, and all my friends are f*ckups
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

[Bridge: Tim Freedman]
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, saying how it should have been

[Chorus 3: Tim Freedman]
And we roll on to my back shed
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
My friends are completely f*cked
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 the weeks
Roll by

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