Psychopath

Album cover art for "Psychopath" by Edgar Broughton Band

Edgar Broughton Band - Rock, UK Rock

Psychopath

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Duration: 6:46

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Lyrics

[Part I: The Psychopath] [Verse 1] I planted my sugar in the dark hills where we walked as a boy of thirteen Trapped on briars in the dark mills, trying to bury that woman Passed in a wood, used to be good, was hidden by a friendly tree I planted my sugar in the dark hills where we walked as a boy of thirteen Carried body 'cross quiet nights, where we went to take a look at my dream [Verse 2] My dream, my dream, you should have heard her scream My dream, my dream, you should have heard her scream Her face has to be seen Insisting she should know The way the madman goes "Take me", she said, "Break me (Ah!)", she said, "Turn me head, churn me dead Like a madman would" [Verse 3] Didn't think I should it, didn't think I would it Nor could it Then I did it I did it, I dug it I did it, I done it I dug it She stripped, I flipped Was flauntin', was tauntin' [Verse 4] My dream, my dream, you should have heard her scream My dream, my dream, you should have heard her scream She'd seen it, been it Paid the price and there she lies [Part II: Is for Butterflies] [Verse 5] Hello, little girl What's your name? Does anybody know you're here? Might your Momma and Poppa know you're here? I see Have you been here long? Oh Might you like to play a game with me? Yes? Don't back away, little girl You can't know what I've done Or where I've come from Where do I live? In the house up on the hill Why? When I was a young boy, I used to play with the butterflies And they said I was, well, you wouldn't understand, little girl Hey, little girl, don't play with the birdie nest You'll break the birdie eggs I'm lonely [Verse 6] Hey, little girl, it's getting darker now Soon, they'll come and take me back to my little cell with only my pictures and stories to tell of the days that I used to play with the butterflies, over the river, warm, soft, and gossamer Oh, little girl, don't run away Stay a while Oh, little girl, they said I was ill I'm not ill I'm not ill, little girl It's the butterflies Why does no one love the butterflies? I can't help being different from they Oh, it's the butterflies It's the butterflies, little girl It's the butterflies It's the butterflies The butterflies It's the butterflies

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Credits

Writers
  • Edgar Broughton
  • Steve Broughton
  • Arthur Grant