Dancehall - William Patrick Corgan

Clementine, the sights you solve

It’s profligates return this saw

A native to the dance halls of the Gaul

Where dancing absolves us all

'Cause they used to know my old Ma

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Monkeyshines their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

It’s a trail of tears from here knows when

She dripped with birch and unmade scent

Shod lean with ghost’s of her lovers weak amends

So slays the mandarin in the house of a sun

Monkeyshines their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

As Cyanotypes, the trollops fight

To hold their scimitar above our heads

Oh, down where they rest with my old Ma

'Cause they used to know where we belong

Dardanelle, skip Misselette

When this faun’s in love it’s nonetheless

So peel back an orange

If you want to taste what’s next

Since laudanum feathers our nest

With a salt mass hop and lament

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Monkeyshines, their bones will grind

In violent times with violet eyes that pale

Oh, down where they rest with my old Ma

'Cause they used to know where we belong