Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown by Sons Of Robert Mitchum
Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown lyrics
Her hands were colder than an unfired.38
She kept a room somewhere in Notting Hill Gate
The last one down the 2nd floor hall
There's a print by Brenda York on the kitchen wall
And her neighbours rarely see her
But then they never really see themselves
She�s quite polite, never causes a stir
She's got lots of Cohen vinyl stacked on some shelves
I remember enquiring about where she came from'til she posed dressed only
In her shiny thigh highs
"Don�t be asking me questions, and I�ll tell you no lies"
The blinds are always down, or at least the curtains are drawn
Her closet�s full of clothes, some of which she�s never worn
There's a skirt that was hand-stitched in Cape Town
And a Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown
Her head is always turned, when pictures are taken
And her hair style never stays the same
Her roots she has so long forsaken
And it�s always fashion that takes the blame
Most times my curiosity would be met with the same reply�If you don't ask
Me questions, why would I tell you lies�
There�s a sundial in her lounge on a wedding kist
That�s right at least twice a day
She wears a watch on the bottom of her left wrist
Like a night nurse waiting for a chance to play
She has a tattoo in a place that mostly only lovers see
There�s a burn mark on her breast she got at Sicily
It's shaped like a tumbler in free fall
After a while you don�t notice it at all
I was trying to find out her favourite song, 'til she said �all musos must
Die, don�t be asking me questions and I'll tell you no lies
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