Tori Amos. Merman. Zeneszám

Go to bed. The priests are dead. Now no one can call you bad.
Go to bed. The priests are dead. Finally you're in Peppermint Land.

He's... a merman, (and) he... doesn't need your voice, he's.. a merman.
Go to bed. Dream instead, and you will find him.
He's a merman- to the knee,
And doesn't need something you're not willing to give.
He's a merman- doesn't need your voice to cross his lands of ice.


Go to bed. The priests are dead. Now no one can call you bad.
Go to bed. The priests are dead. Finally you found him...


(Baby...) And let it out.
Who could ever say you're not simply wonderful?
(Simply wonderful, yes...)
Who could ever harm you? Ooh, sleep now.
You're my little goat.


Go to bed. Priests are dead.
And go and sing it all again.
Go to bed. Past the apple orchard. And you'll feel nice...
Two can play. I said, two can play. Hmm.