You know i used to call my baby up
   and we'd get real close
   just like the telephone was a sofa
   and our thoughts would mingle
   and we'd leave our minds wide open
   like a big window in the evening air
   and we'd say,
   'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'
   'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'
   but these days, even saying, 'hello? how are you?'
   'i'm fine, how are you?' takes a lot of sweat
  
   ain't that a shame
   ain't that a shame
   but in linctus house
   in my flesh hotel
   i don't care anymore
  
   you know my baby and me
   as kimberley would say
   we'd curl up like two dogs
   in front of a fire
   and our eyes would reflect each other
   in the warm long heat of love
   yeah, the warm long heat of love
   and i would hear the rain falling
   on the leaves outside
   i could'nt stand to close the window
   'cos i'd shiver if i left her side
   but now i'd shake if we should meet
   and i spend most of my time in the bushes
  
   ain't that a shame
   know what you're doing
   ain't that a shame
   know what you've done
   but in linctus house
   in my flesh hotel
   i don't care anymore
  
   'i understand how everything sometimes
   turns out to be nothing,' you say
   but i wonder if you do
   and if we understood each other
   there'd be no need to talk
   but even that, even talking is out of reach
   should i say it with flowers or
   should i say it with nails?
   i'm not the kind to push you around
   but i don't want to make myself vulnerable
   and if i was on my knees
   you'd have a pretty good view of my skull
   and i happen to know you're carrying a chisel
  
   but in linctus hotel
   in my flesh hotel
   i don't care anymore
   no
   in linctus house
   in my flesh hotel
   i don't care
  
   ain't that a shame
   know what you're doing
   ain't that a shame
   know what you've done