I spent all last winter in some rat-hole B&B, playing my space-rock cassette I picked up somewhere in a boot-sale
Yvonne took off for New York, found a job at the Guggenheim, I used to stand at the end of the pier and pretend that she'd died
And eternity ached like a wound

Out by the boarded-up seafood stands there's a blind girl shivers in her '40s style coat while her dog sits watching the gulls dive-bomb the surf
Someone sprayed a message high on the cliffs so I climbed up, it seemed important I see, but when I got real close all it said was "LIMP BIZKIT RULE"
That old sadist Time twists his knife again
Another day gone like piss down a drain

Hen-party girls dance a chorus-line, high-kicking past the curry-house
The one in the platinum bob's skirt blows up in a breeze
There's a live band playing at the Porcupine, I sip warm rattlesnake jizz from a greasy glass, watching the light trampoline off the stand-up bass
You use up your youth like it's loose change you're giving away
My midnight candle looks pathetic in the light of day

But I've been seeing this woman, she's like a playing card queen, she was a painter's model for some hotshot whose name I forget
She says she loves me but then she'll deny it, she wears 3D glasses, she's strange but cute, we've got a propane pipe, tinfoil and cartoons on TV
We lie listening to the sounds of the building site close by
And yesterday she cried for hours 'cause I killed a fly
She's got more compassion than I've ever seen
My little black-eyed anorexic queen

But lately she don't talk
Or she don't come round for days
I play my space-rock tape,
I play my space-rock tape

Lyrics submitted by BleedorBreathe

My Space-Rock Tape song meanings
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