Lyrics: Diane Cluck. Monte Carlo.

And the three lonely things poking up from the water

are her nipples and her nose as she floats on her back

And the sand is deserted except for me standing

I stand as the landmark to keep her on track

So the ocean wont pull her away



I'm guarding our bags since I really can't swim

and I don't want to learn, though she does try to teach

but thieves who scope tourists at night in the city

in daytime all probably hang at this beach



You never know in Monte Carlo



From noon until evening her skin changes color

from paler than mine to a sun-punished red

So I expect havoc tonight around bedtime

she'll want me to blow on her blisters in bed



That's the sun in Monte Carlo



The keeper of the lighthouse is sleeping

so we creep upstairs to play with his beam

Making ships stray from their courses intended

by highlighting rocks and the shallows between them

And the smashing of hulls in the night seemed to have no consequence at all like the action in dreams



In the morning gulls pick over jetsam and junk

over flotsam but feeling no guilt for their screams

While we spent three quarters of our time apologizing

for the quarter of the time

that we're thoughtless and thoughtless and mean



Just for fun in Monte Carlo

Just for fun in Monte Carlo



We go to the cliffs where the men cruise eachother

their cars come and go like the change of the tide

Where Grace Kelly swam her last swim on the planet

When Grace Kelly's Roadster flipped over the side of the guardrail



One guy looked so nervous in standing alone

My friend saw him shaking and started to laugh

I said "wouldn't you be nervous if you knew in ten minutes

you'd have the surf at your feet and some stranger up your back

giving you his best Monte Carlo"

A ten-minute double ringed halo



You know the most breathtaking sight I've seen in a while

was the site of French men fucking under the stars

We watched them dancing like mermen on fire

'til cops came and chased them away in their cars



We watched them run in Monte Carlo

We watched them and we laid low



And my girl is as red as a rare hot-house flower

her skin is so burned that she's giving off heat

And my girl is as tired as nobody's business

but sea air makes sleeping incredibly sweet



Two more nights in Monte Carlo



And her burn will be a tan

She can't sleep- she just said so

So I turn up the fan