you know i used to call my baby up  and we'd get real close  just like the telephone was a sofa  and our thoughts would mingle  and we'd leave our minds wide open  like a big window in the evening air  and we'd say,  'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'  'hey baby, come on in and help yourself to my soul'  but these days, even saying, 'hello? how are you?'  'i'm fine, how are you?' takes a lot of sweat  ain't that a shame  ain't that a shame  but in linctus house  in my flesh hotel  i don't care anymore  you know my baby and me  as kimberley would say  we'd curl up like two dogs  in front of a fire  and our eyes would reflect each other  in the warm long heat of love  yeah, the warm long heat of love  and i would hear the rain falling  on the leaves outside  i could'nt stand to close the window  'cos i'd shiver if i left her side  but now i'd shake if we should meet  and i spend most of my time in the bushes  ain't that a shame  know what you're doing  ain't that a shame  know what you've done  but in linctus house  in my flesh hotel  i don't care anymore  'i understand how everything sometimes  turns out to be nothing,' you say  but i wonder if you do  and if we understood each other  there'd be no need to talk  but even that, even talking is out of reach  should i say it with flowers or  should i say it with nails?  i'm not the kind to push you around  but i don't want to make myself vulnerable  and if i was on my knees  you'd have a pretty good view of my skull  and i happen to know you're carrying a chisel  but in linctus hotel  in my flesh hotel  i don't care anymore  no  in linctus house  in my flesh hotel  i don't care  ain't that a shame  know what you're doing  ain't that a shame  know what you've done