The Naked Dutch Painter Lyrics & Chords By Stew

la la la la la la la la la la la la la la the naked dutch painter in the kitchen does not want to fuck you she's got seventeen boyfriends and an eight o'clock class to get to she's smoking hash all night with some coffee amaretto she's asking stupid questions 'bout my groovy black ghetto and the naked dutch painter in the kitchen does not want to fuck you la la la la la la la la la la la la la la the naked dutch painter in your bed does not want to sleep with you she just feels like being naked you don't think that you can take with her next to you she says "gandhi used to sleep between two naked women" but you're not the mahatma that's a whole 'nother religion and the naked dutch painter in the bed does not want to sleep with you the naked dutch painter in the morning does not want to need you she missed her eight o'clock class 'cause she couldn't get her ass up off of you so you walk along the rhine and jump back in the sack if this is how they do it then you're never going back and the naked dutch painter in the morning does not want to need you talking 'bout the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la the naked dutch painter in the gallery does not want to love you she's throwing flouresecent paint accompanied by a mingus tape that she stole from you it's performace art porno under trippy black light she left with her professor he can stretch her canvas tight and the naked dutch painter in the gallery does not want to love you the naked dutch painter in his arms does not want to see you you are drunk and you are sore you busted down professor's door yet he feels for you so a wicked joint is rolled and it mellows out your head but you're not feeling too bold when he invites you into bed while the naked dutch painter in his arms does not want to see you (ha ha) talking 'bout the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la so now you're on your own in a freezing pay phone around daybreak you're feeling so shitty that you're calling culver city just to bellyache but there's nobody home except your answering machine so you write a stupid poem about the freaky shit you've seen like the naked dutch painter in the morning sky who hovers above you the naked dutch at your door says she finally loves you but she said "i'll see you later" when she saw another naked painter sitting in the kitchen with you well she seemed a little shattered then she got a little pissed when she saw that you were flattered by the fact that you'd be missed while the naked dutch at your door says... (ha ha) talking 'bout the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter (da de da da doo da da doo) the naked dutch painter the naked dutch painter