Song parody of
Achille's Desire
by Whitehorse
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I don't have much but I got the good stuff
And I keep it tucked away where you can find it
If you got the guts
Walk with me, walk with me, walk with me, walk
I got a girl from the burbs who won't talk
I don't have much, but I got the good stuff
And I don't know why but you make me sweat
When trouble comes calling I'm packing my bags for the west
I'll give you nothing for nothing if that's what you desire
I'll let it cool if you light my fire
And bumper shine my way home
Bumper shine my way home
All the square pegs and all the round holes
Couldn't fit all of the stories you told
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
I don't have much, but I am a rich man
I got a woman down from the Park Ridge
Who is finer than sand
Fall with me, fall with me, fall with me, fall
Through the waist of the hourglass fall
I don't have much, but I am a rich man
A second hand gypsy is no fading flower
Fingers are frozen in furious power
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
Cold cold sweat on the back of my knees
The future blows in on the Assiniboine breeze
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
All the square pegs and all the round holes
Couldn't fit all of the stories you told
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
But I don't have much
I don't have much but I got the good stuff
And I keep it tucked away where you can find it
If you got the guts
Walk with me, walk with me, walk with me, walk
I got a girl from the burbs who won't talk
I don't have much, but I got the good stuff
And I don't know why but you make me sweat
When trouble comes calling I'm packing my bags for the west
I'll give you nothing for nothing if that's what you desire
I'll let it cool if you light my fire
And bumper shine my way home
Bumper shine my way home
All the square pegs and all the round holes
Couldn't fit all of the stories you told
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
I don't have much, but I am a rich man
I got a woman down from the Park Ridge
Who is finer than sand
Fall with me, fall with me, fall with me, fall
Through the waist of the hourglass fall
I don't have much, but I am a rich man
A second hand gypsy is no fading flower
Fingers are frozen in furious power
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
Cold cold sweat on the back of my knees
The future blows in on the Assiniboine breeze
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
All the square pegs and all the round holes
Couldn't fit all of the stories you told
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
The pull of the moth to the fire
Your Achilles' desire
But I don't have much
