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lirik lagu 80s salt mine parties – mimosa alexis

[verse1]
checked in to my quiddity when my courtesies frantic was to grieve
the agency was a coerce from my cached sheets
a cold christmas plaza turning clinched cerise pales into red cheeks
my gated conceit having a rush of rue for a ch*nk in copacetic deeds
i knew the confessions would be secure in hands of meeks
found some kind of contentment from chambre seats
and clover from the lender that compensated my bottled up needs

[chorus]
80s chemise
chimerical tеrrene that fulfilled my bonniе colleen fantasies
conjuring up those afternoons at marie’s, costuming like tapestries
with my couture grandma, who’s outflow was seen as cordon of families
for either of you they weren’t just chemise
sometimes cut and dry beinghood needs a thrilling trapeze
i can see from my cured peregrine, you were the cane to my chancy studies
still a moribund, but even cold crypts chaperon you to peace

[verse2]
the chair in the port cobbled up a chat about paddleboarding on knees
i would try it if i loved every attribute that is concealed by long sleeves
but adamantine customs are life´s most costing fees
my mind aviates itself like honey hunting bees
takes an adventure to a land called peace
while i need it like spring needs sun to unfreeze
i´m hunting myself, not quick enough for the keeper of the keys
how we both needed those puffy sleeves and political sleaze
now tell me how was these
[chorus]
80s salt mine parties
you never clued me in about the chemise, did it turn like a coral quiche?
i hope you corresponded in the cotillion like daisy dreams
i know they are only salt mine parties
but sometimes clammed up grandeur red*pencil’s realities
i could see those blues cobbled up the day there was no more bourns to achieve
i didn’t blabber cause you never told anyone how i bleated in the church street

[bridge]
they say adherence doesn´t read the roadmaps of cities
it´s just drives towards the indies
where a girl is sitting in her red lips and inner bleeds
and you don´t know much, but somehow it´s something she needs
oh how much you can read much from those effete cheeks
withdrawn from school, wounds made from days, deathbed from weeks
flowing to the ground drowsier than the rest of the leaves

[outro]
is this where 80s salt parties patron and candle*waster meets?
haven´t seen her since she saved my fate from cached sheets
academic studies were born in retail therapies and chambre seats

- mimosa alexis

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