Текст (слова) песни: Voice Of The Beehive - Playing House
(By Tracey Bryn & Martin Brett)
He`s walking slowly - he is in no hurry He is walking to the slaughter of the hell that`s called routine She arises tried - she is feeding on the famine of the Fat that`s called the housewife Making sure that it`s all clean
This is the game called playing house We`re all screamin`, no one`s getting out This is the game called playing house
He`s starving for a surprise, she is aching for a sign That things are not quite as simple As they seemed to be designed Give me complication, give me freezing in the heat Give me some new kind of rhythm Give me some new kind of beat
Don`t give me the game called playing house We`re all screaming, no one`s getting out Don`t give me the game called playing house
Playing house, Playing house
Destroy all that`s creative - give routine a friendly face Just give everyone a rhythm, just give everyone a place That is the game that we`ve been told that we will play And if we play ot long enough, it`s bound to surely go away.
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