King's English
Cause I can't sit oh I can't talk
I gotta leave this town and run to you
Curse these nights that speak your name
I gotta leave this town and come to you
Break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)
Ha ha ha
Break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)
She barely knew your name
Curse, Disturbed
Sam wandered down the hallway, his gun out his body tense and ready. He couldn't hear Dean, but didn't expect to, his brother was a stone, cold professional and they were both in stealth mode.
The cast were doing MacBeth here, and he knew better then to say the word in a theater, had warned Dean who took every opportunity to not say "The Scottish Play" much to the annoyance of the cast and crew.
The irony of a witch at work he wasn't lost of Sam, either. Of all the plays in all the world. He grinned at his own little joke, Dean would never get it.
A movement to his left caught him and he turned, "Stage Left!" his brain ticked and saw Dean zoom past!
"Sammy!" Dean called as he moved past and Sam might have sworn he say a blue shift his brother was moving so fast. Blue shift, He chuckled to himself.
"Damn it! Sam!"
Sam focused and bolted after his brother. There was a gun shot and Sam lurched around a corner, found a dead witch and Dean holding a skull.
"'Tis a prop." Dean said.
"I see that." Sam stared at Dean, waiting for whatever bizarre thing to happen. The look on Dean's face, confused, unsure. "Dean?"
"Me thinks it is a circumstance. What ho? Mine speech is a wicked thing..."
"Are you alright?" Sam asked.
"Anon, but for this cursed tongue, all confounded and garbled. Mayhap some spell of yon witch?"
"Oh, crap." Sam said.
"Speak again, sweet brother."
"Yeah, maybe you should let me do the talking?"
Dean nodded and made to speak but shook his head.
Dean had come around the curtain and saw the witch grab the skull out of a bag. She threw it at him and, while she was in-canting he shot her. And he even caught the prop skull.
But he knew it was a mistake, didn't he. A strange feeling passed over him, one vaguely familiar. A curse.
He sat in the Impala waiting for Sam to come out. Loose ends. He was furious, with himself and with that witch. He wished she was still alive so he could kill her again.
Sam came out with a gym bag and dropped it in the trunk, then sat next to Dean.
"So?" Sam asked.
"Thou hast resolved..." Dean bit his tongue and licked his lip.
"Yeah. I settled everything. So, we should probably… find Cass."
Dean nodded. He sat still.
"Um, is there a problem?" Sam asked and Dean nodded.
"I require sustenance, Starve'd, like the lion in the grave winter doth my body..."
"Yeah. Sure. I can order for you."
"Thanks to thee." Dean responded.
Dean started the car and pulled out. There was a long silence between them and then it began, quietly, stifled. Dean looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye and noticed the slight shake of the shoulder.
"Think thou this mirthful? Amuse'd are thee?"
Sam burst out into a full guffaw. Tears ran down his cheeks as he laughed. "Yes, Yes I do!" he finally managed to squeak. Dean glared at him. "For god's sake, don't tell me off, I might not be able to breathe!"
"Ho, ho, tis merry made." Dean said and peals of laughter shook Sam's whole body.
"No, no. I'm sorry. I mean..." He slowly got control of himself. "it's just..."
"No, hath thine laugh. In thine sleeps I shall secret serpents into thine trousers. "
Again, Sam broke into gales of hysterics. "Dude, dude...do the Brave heart speech!"
"Thine death shall be a winsome spectacle, Thou surly weather-bitten flax-wench!"
"Oh, God, stop! It hurts!"
Dean frowned and plotted Sam's death.
It took a good ten minutes for Sam to get full control of himself. He'd get some semblance of calm and then look at Dean and again, lose it.
But now, he could almost breathe and he swallowed. He looked at his brother and this time the laughter was controllable.
"Dude, I' sorry but..." Dean nodded and flashed a forced smile.
"I'm going to die and you know what? Totally worth it." He said to his brother and took out his cell. He dialed Castiel.
Castiel stood on top of a bridge watching the water flow. Not really the water, but the current. He was scrying the currents of time. He was really bad at it, but every once and a while he had, in history, seen something salient.
Today, though, nothing. He couldn't even tell what the weather would be from the eddy and flow of the water. Some angels could glance at a stream and find something important. Castiel's talents lay elsewhere and he felt confident that some day he'd quit making the wrong choices and figure it out.
"There is no need feeling sorry for yourself." He uttered to no one.
"No, there isn't." Came a voice from behind him. His blade appeared in his hand and he turned. It was Chamuel. She threw herself around him and kissed him.
"Where have you been?" He asked as soon as she let him come up for air.
"Gabriel and I have been checking out the pit." She said and wiggled her nose at the memory of the smell. He sighed and glared at her.
"That is dangerous." He said.
"And despite my cuteness, I am still an archangel. I've been looking for Lucifer..."
He grabbed her arms and gently shook her. "Do you have a death wish?"
She smiled and kissed his nose, taking some of the urgency out of his worry. "The Morning Star wouldn't hurt me. He loves me!"
"That was a very long time ago before you and he had your… difference of opinion."
"Morning Star wouldn't hold a grudge..."
"Cam. You are the one who threw Lucifer from the wall. You helped Michael cage him…"
She looked at Castiel with wide, innocent eyes and nodded at his every word with mock sincerity.
"I love my brothers. And they love me. We do stupid things, but we forgive one another."
"Tell that to Michael."
"Micheal is a hot head. He'll come around eventually."
"Micheal is broken in the cage."
Something flickered in her eyes.
"What?" She asked.
"You didn't know?" She shook her head and turned to go. "Where… of course, to the cage. Cam..." He moved after her and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him and stroked his cheek.
"I know what you're going to say, but we didn't leave Dean in hell and we aren't leaving Michael there, either."
"I'll go..." At that moment the phone rang. "Dean?"
"No, no it's Sam. We need you're help..."
"I'm kind of busy..." Cass began. She took the phone and did her best and indeed, a very convincing Imitation of Castiel's voice. "But, of course, for you I can make time." She hit the speaker button.
"You sure?"
"Yes. What it is." Castiel gave her a dirty look.
"Dean seems to have been hit with some curse or spell or..."
"Can I speak to him?" She asked, a wicked grin on her face.
"Um, well, that's a problem. Could you just meet us?"
"Sure. Where?" Cass started to speak, but she leaned over and kissed him.
"Um, Orlando, Florida."
"That will take a while..." Castiel barked but she reached out and shoved him and he found himself on a street corner in Orlando as the boys drove by. Sam saw him and waved, told Dean to stop.
He sighed. He loved her but she could be exasperating.
"How'd you get here so fast?" Sam asked as Castiel climbed into the back of the car.
"Chamuel gave me a hand." He growled sarcastically.
"Oh, how is she?" Sam asked.
"She is going into the cage to try to save Michael..."
"Fie! We must away to stop her!"
Castiel stared at Dean in horror. He looked at Sam who shrugged.
"Is he…? Dean?" Cass asked in utter shock.
"Aye, tis true. We did pursue a witch most vile and she did upon my countenance cast a spell or contrive some acursed circumstance that thusly impaired my speech. Alas, the harlot lies dead in the ground, beyond my ministrations, food for worms."
"A ha." Castiel said.
"He said, I think, that a witch..."
"I remember the 16th century, Sam. I was there. It's just… baffling. Those words coming out of that mouth where so many cheese burgers met their end..."
"OK, neither of you can talk for a while." Sam said in horror. "Is it a curse, or a spell? Can we reverse it?"
"I'll need some time to study it, but I think it's a curse. Tell me exactly what happened."
Dean began to speak.
"Him." Cass said and diverted his eyes to Sam in that creepy way of his. Dean shuddered.
"We were chasing a witch at a theater and Dean cornered her and she threw a skull at him." Dean nodded.
"The misbegotten boil-brained dewberry harlot." Dean muttered.
"Well, he's creative." Cass offered. "We should get a room."
"And haunch and pint. I am weak with hunger." Dean added.
"Dean remember that game dad used to play with us sometimes in the car? OK, I'll give a dollar to the one of us that can stay quiet longest." Sam said.
"Why would I want a dollar?" Castiel asked.
"Payest thine debt." Dean smiled and held out his hand as Sam sighed and pulled out his wallet. He flung a dollar at Dean and got out his phone to look up a motel.
"This is not my area of expertise." Castiel said, again. He had the trench and jacket off and his sleeves were rolled up. He leaned over Dean like a doctor on a house call.
"Well, summonest thou thine finest apothecary!"
"That would have been Raphael." Cass said.
"That Rogue? A pestilence of pox would not mine heart soften one wit to his sufferage! A varlot! A leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, knot-pated, agatering, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spanish pouch, him! "
Yes, yes..." Cass agreed and touched Dean's forehead, Dean fell unconscious. The door opened and Sam came in carrying a fast food bag.
"Well?" He asked and looked at Dean.
"I put him to sleep."
"You know, if he finds out you did that to him..."
"He never has before." Sam put down the food.
"Wait, you've done it before?" Sam asked.
"Yes, sometimes it's more expedient." Cass offered noncommittally. He looked Dean over again.
"Do you ever do that with me?" He asked.
Castiel looked at him and thought for a long moment. "No?" He ventured.
"Cass… Look, just don't do it again..."
"OK?" Cass said again.
"So what are we going to do?"
Cass looked at Sam.
"He could audition for the drama group." Castiel offered innocently.
"OK, not helpful. I don't know about you but MacDean is going to drive me bananas."
Cass nodded.
At that moment there was a clatter outside. Sam went to the window and looked out. Three men were moving a large bundle from a room to a van. The bundle moved and one of the men bared fangs and hissed.
"Great, that's just..."
Castiel moved to his shoulder and looked out. "What?"
"We chose the only motel I've ever seen that is being used as a vampire grocery store."
"I'll wake MacDean." Castiel offered.
Cami appeared in Crowley's hotel room. The other demons he had with him fled but he just looked at her blandly.
"The Archangel Chamuel, to what do I owe the honor. Wait, if it's the news that God loves me I already have a book of Mormon."
"They told me you were funny, but no one mentioned handsome."
This caught him off guard. For a moment he was speechless.
"Well, I'll need to work on my PR kit." He finally volleyed back. "So, what can I do for you?"
"My brother." She replied.
"There are so many. Could you narrow that a tinsy little bit?"
"Two, actually. Lucifer and Michael."
"Well, that's easy, Michael is in the cage and Lucifer is in my chair."
"Thanks..."
"Not so fast. I can't allow a lovely lady like yourself to leave without a glass of wine. It wouldn't be chivalrous."
"The devil is a sharp dressed man." She grinned. "But I don't drink."
"Of course not. Lips that touch wine..."
"Naw, I just don't like the taste. But if you have bourbon..."
"Let me guess, angel's share?"
"In light of the company, Devil's cut will do."
He could not help but grin."
"So, do sit for a moment. I'm sure I can help you in a few other ways..."
"Castiel is already annoyed enough with me for hareing off to find my brothers."
"Yes, trouble in paradise? I heard you two were an item much to heaven's chagrin."
"Heaven need to learn to mind it's own business. So, what's the angle, Crowley?"
"Oh, you wound me, Can't I just enjoy the company of a lovely woman?"
"Not if you want to keep your reputation as a demon's demon up."
"Well, now that you mention it, it has been a while since I've caught up on the gossip."
She smiled and sat down, completely at ease. Crowley was mesmerized at the raw power. He'd never actually been this close to an Arch other the Lucifer, and Old Nick was damaged goods. This was different, something from the golden plane of heaven, not fallen and still holding grace and the fresh smell of new creation.
"OK, ask." She said.
"Where to start. How do I get my throne back from your brother?"
"Direct, a bold gambit. I like it." She said and cocked her head the way Castiel often did. No other angel did it so he assumed it was a them thing. He should have asked.
"Well?"
"Short answer? You don't. And you don't want to. Something is happening and frankly, and not to disparage your incredible abilities, but the table just went jack or better, all in. Were I you, I'd keep my head down." She said with a smile.
He wanted in that moment to twist her into something so vile… no, pleasure later, business now. He pushed away his lust.
"Are you going to make me pry it out of you?" He asked. She shook her head.
"I'm not going to tell you. Crowley, if you step into this, you're going to regret it. You want a part in this, then do me a favor and I'll reward you handsomely when this is all over."
"Even if you lose?" He asked with a sardonic grin.
"Yes, I can arrange that, One favor, swear it and I'll make sure you get a shot at getting your throne back."
"I swear it, anything..."
"You are now Dean Winchester's guardian angel until all this mess is over with. Keep him safe, will you?"
Crowley's eyes widened. "You bitch!" He growled.
She smiled. "You are dead sexy when your furious." She grinned and stood and left the room.
"Surely thou jest? Blood suckers? Here in this inn?" Dean asked.
"Yup? So before we uncurse you, we have to kill that nest."
"Lay on! Away us into the fray. Mine hands do yearn for battle's grip on a good blade."
"Before we un curse him, could we have him read The Tempest?" Castiel asked. Both brothers gave him a filthy look.
Crowley appeared in the room in a temper. All three of them wheeled on him, all with weapons in their hands.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt any one. Though when I get my hands on that despicable girlfriend of yours I'm not sure if I'm going to kill her or marry the bitch!" Crowley spat.
"Chamuel? You saw my Chamuel?" Cass asked and moved to Crowley.
"See her? She tricked me into becomes Dean's guardian! I'm a friggin' guardian angels for Dean Winchester! It's suicide!"
"Hold foul beast? What manner of nonsense doth thou speak? Thou are to be MY guardian? I mock thee."
Crowley stared at Dean. "OK, who gave him Crack?" Crowley asked.
"It's a curse, can you remove it?" Sam asked.
"I hate all of you so much..." Crowley said and rubbed his face. "No, I cannot remove the bloody curse!" He took a long look at Dean. "Only the person who created the curse can remove it."
"Speak no more, foul demon! Surely!"
"Oh shut up!" Crowley said and moved his hands, making Dean mute. Dean took a step toward him and then stopped. "Let me think."
"The witch who gave him the curse is dead." Sam offered.
Crowley removed the silence from Dean who glared at him.
"Well, then, he'll be even more annoying forever! Nothing to be done but get really drunk."
"Here, here, for once thou speak sense, Demon."
"No time. The vamps are moving out. We have to go." Sam said glancing out the window.
"Oh, you're on a job! Better and better. Fine, you go kill things and I'll do some research and find out what I can about this curse. And for Christ's sake, man, keep your head down. If anything happens to you I'll have to listen to her forever..."
In the wave of a hand, Crowley disappeared in a waft of sulfur.
Dean followed the Vamps. They were in an old van, it had a stylized airbrushed bat on the side. He could almost smell the shag carpet inside it. Not just vampires, tacky vampires.
He wanted to make a comment but wasn't really sure what would come out of his mouth. In the back seat, Castiel was fidgeting with his phone, narrowed his eyes and shook it.
"Pray, is there distress?" he ventured. Short sentences were best.
"I am having issues getting bars."
A million sarcastic barbs ran through his mind, but he just clamped his lips together tightly.
Sam turned and help up his own phone. "Yeah, me too."
"Perhaps we hath entered a zone of death."
"It sounds really ominous in Old English." Sam offered.
"Actually, it's Middle English. Old English is harder to understand them Atlantean..."
Sam nodded for a minute, then glanced at Castiel. "Wait, you mean?"
"Me thinks yon angel doth toy with thine mind." Dean offered and smiled, but he wasn't sure either. It was hard to tell with Castiel, but Dean didn't need any more monsters right now and Atlantis sounded… monsterish.
Dean saw Castiel flick his blue eyes up to the rear view to meet Dean's. Whatever he say there made Cass drop whatever he was about to say.
The Vamps turned down a dirt road that was barely more then a goat trail. Dean drove up a little and looked through the trees. He stopped and waited for the tail lights to vanish, then turned back and, turning off the head lights, followed them quietly down the back road.
It was about a mile in that the road forked into a drive way and a continuation of the road. There was the van. Dean drove up a little way and stopped.
He looked at the others and they all nodded to his silent orders. He thanked God that they were so good at their jobs.
Sam opened the trunk and started handing out guns. He tossed Dean his .45 and two clips pf Dead Man's blood ammo. He pulled out his own gun and offered one to Cass, who looked at it and put it back in the trunk.
"OK, so we go in, and rescue whomever that is..." Sam said.
"And we doth smite all whom in the darkness… Thou knowest what I do imply."
Sam fought down a smile and nodded. Castiel seemed to have simply accepted Dean's new mode of speech.
A moment later they were moving toward a small cabin, dark inside save the weak light of an oil lamp. Sam moved to the back door and Dean to the front. Castiel wandered behind them seeming disinterested as he often did.
To his credit he couldn't have imagined, even with his angelic intelligence, what was in the yard. He stepped into the circle and heard the sound of a match striking and say the flames of the angel trap rise around him. It brought him up short and the shock flashed across his face.
The back door burst open and hit Sam in the face, knocking him unconscious and the front door opened in a similar way, but Dean managed to leap out of the way as two large Vampires came out, with guns drawn.
One of them took aim at him.
"Thou odius Mongrel, I shall rip from the thine spleen..."
"Hold!" Came a voice from behind them. A tall female vampire came out. She was pale and had blond, almost white hair. Her eyes were watery blue. Dean stood up and pulled his gun, but something in her face made him stop. "Thou speakest in the tongue of thine father's and tis to mine hungry ear a banquet."
He completely understood what she was saying. He opened his mouth to speak back but was hit on the head with a blunt object and lost consciousness.
When Dean awoke, his hands were bound and he was hanging from a rafter in the cabin. Across from him Sam was similarly bound and outside the window he could see Castiel pacing in his fiery cage.
"Well, this doth seem a trial." He said.
He could hear the vampires in the other room and the quiet whimper of someone, presumably the vampires dinner.
A moment later the female entered, wearing a flowing white dress and looking like some kind of pale ghost.
"Where comes from thine speech? Dost thou mock mine beginning?" She asked.
"Pray no, my lady, I do find myself acursed from the skull given to me by yon witch. Make merry if you will."
And she did, her laugh was like silver bells ringing and her smile was kind of pretty under neath the creep factor.
"In all my days I did not hope to hear such language again. I was hired to kill the three of you. But you amused me, Dean Winchester, so I'm going to give you a last request." She offered.
"Well, kind lady, if thou would rippest out thine own eyes for me that I might enjoy thy pain, that would be a token."
"Now I see why they want you dead." She replied. "I offered you a kindness."
"Fine, thou are true, I am a cur. So, tell me who did this commission give thee?"
"Oh, I can't tell you who hired me. And let me tell you, you guys are so easy to follow."
"Thou did offer a boon, fair lady, wouldst thou have thine name in context with dishonor?"
"Yes, yes…" There was a noise in the other room, one that get her attention. "Shh, wait here. I'll be right back." She said and leaned forward and kissed his nose. He tried to bite her but missed.
As soon as she was in the other room, Crowley appeared out of the shadows. He walked over to Dean.
"Hello, Squirrel. Good news, I've figured out how to remove the curse..."
"Ah me! Tis mine delight. But at this moment, mine desires find more pressing matters, so if thou might..."
"Oh, you're busy. I'll come back..."
"Vanish thou now, demon and I swear I shall boil thy giblets in perdition's soup."
"Oh, Squirrel, You're turning me on." Crowley turned back and looked at Dean with mock lust.
"Tie thy tongue and unbind my countenence or by the Gods..."
"Hold your horses, there, Hamlet, Now I'm a guardian angel and I have to admit, I'm not very good with this whole "rules" thing… I mean, I don't even know if I'm allowed to help you. I should go and ask your feathery friend outside. Hey… fried chicken. I'll have a wing..."
"Goest thou not one inch nor one farthing from me, Crowley. It is in my mind that those who doth keep me thus have not for my health a plan, and so, shouldst they in this endeavor find success, thou willst be called an failure and by none other them mine own guardian angel."
Crowley sighed. "You make a good point. And you should thank your lucky stars that she's more annoying then you. Fine." Crowley pointed at the ropes that bound Dean but nothing happened. "What, What? Well, damn it all, looks like there are rules."
A noise in the other room sent Crowley scurrying. The pale vampire entered the room and stood before Dean. She cut his cheek with a dagger she held in her hand and licked the blood off of the blade.
"OOO, you taste good." She said.
"So, vile harpy? Does thy grant my boon?"
"OK, I guess you'll be dead soon enough. A reaper. His name is Jenkins. He said he was doing a favor for a friend."
"I know this beast not, but I shall endeavor..."
She slapped him and stopped him in med sentence."
"I've enjoyed this, Dean, really, but now it's over.
From his hiding place in the darkness, Crowley watched the scene and had to confess a certain amount of Schadenfreude. It was nice to see Dean with his balls in a vice for once. He got a little caught up and the smacking of Dean's flesh brought him back to the present moment.
"Fine." he sighed silently and set his mind to finding the solution. Clearly, this guardian angel gig was more then a title. There seemed to be some kind of binding magic. And he couldn't directly help Dean. This was just the kind of annoying bullshit Chuck would come up with. That Annoying git.
Fine, if he couldn't help Dean directly, maybe indirectly. He couldn't snap the rope, but could he give him a knife? Crowley tried to apport a knife to Dean, but no good.
Sammy stirred in his own bounds and his eyes flared up. The lightbulb went of.
And no reason he couldn't have a little fun at the same time. He looked at the rafter Sam was tied to and willed it to break. It snapped like dry timber and fell in a cloud of dust and wood chips on Sam's head. Sam fell, sputtering, coughing and the Vampire turned quickly, saw him. She lunged at him, but, being a Winchester and having the luck of the f***ing Irish, Sam rolled and his foot connected with the face of the vampire.
Crowley, now fully enjoying the game flicked his finger and Sam's gun fell from a table and skittered into his hand. It looked completely accidental and, though he'd never admit it, Crowley was enjoying this new form of chaos.
Sam came up and shot the Vampire in the face. She screamed and rolled away, her face erupting in black lines caused by the dead blood.
Again, Sam fired and Crowley smiled, flicked the bullet and had it hit Dean's rafter and as a bonus managed to hit the rope, cutting it in two and dropping Dean to the ground.
Now the other vamps filed into the room, confused and angry and the boys fell into their stride. Sam grabbed Dean's gun and threw it to him.
Before Crowley could apport some popcorn, two of the Vampires were dead. A third was advancing on Dean, who shot it putting and end to it and the final of the lesser vamps realized running was the best option and leapt out the front window and disappeared.
Now, Dean advanced on the old Vampire.
"Tellest me, This Jenkins. Where doth he dwell?"
"I'll never tell you." She replied, her jaw ripped and flapping as she spoke. Dean nodded and thought for a moment.
"Thy words carry truth." He said, and shot her one last time, ending her long life.
"So, we have another enemy?" Sam asked as He and Dean put out the fire trapping Castiel.
"Sounded like a contract of a contract." Crowley offered, coming up behind them.
"SO, and enemy we already had hiring other people..." Castiel offered.
"Could be anyone." Sam offered.
"Ah me!" Dean sighed. "With all haste, once my tongue untwists, this we may pursue, but for now, giveth me mine remedy!"
"Oh, yes..." Crowley said and reached into his pocket. He handed Dean a slip of paper. "Just say that and you'll be right as rain, then."
Dean opened the paper and read it. "Surely, thou jest?" He said, looking at Crowley.
"Apparently the curser had a sense of humor and a dramatic flair." Crowley offered.
"Fine, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."
And at that, he fell into a deep, deep sleep.
Dean woke in his own bed, well rested. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, saw Crowley on the edge of his bed.
"What the hell are you doing here..." he bellowed and then stopped. "Did you hear that! I'm back!"
"Huzzuh." Crowley said with no enthusiasm.
"Aw, Crowley, did you like the other better. Isn't it like your original tongue or something..." Sam chided.
"I don't have to guard. And he's awake now, so if you'll excuse me. Try not to die in the next few hours, will you?" Crowley said.
"Thanks for your concern..." Dean grinned.
"Believe me, Not something I ever through I'd say. Or should I say Forsooth, My lips doth speak of wicked things..." He offered and vanished before Dean could respond.
"So, now what?" Dean asked. Castiel looked up from the TV.
"We should find this Reaper and figure out whose trying to kill us this time." He offered.
"Always practical. OK, I like it. But first, I need a burger and a beer."
Castiel rolled his eyes. "Lord, what fools these mortals be." he offered.
"What the hell is that from?" Dean asked and disappeared off in search of a burger.
When I saw you for the first time (first time)
My knees began to quiver (quiver)
And I got a funny feeling (feeling)
In my kidneys and my liver (digestive system baby)
My hands they started shakin' (shakin')
My heart it started thumpin' (boom, boom, boom!)
My breakfast left my body (Heuey, heuey, heuey)
It really tells me something.
Girl, you make me tongue tied (tongue tied)
Tongue Tied. Whenever you are near me (near me)
Tied tongue (tied tongue)
Tied tongue (tied tongue)
Whenever you're in town.
You make me feel like a clown, girl.
Tongue tied – Red Dwarf