Maya May's a painter out in Leidseplein.
She's holed up in a room atop a bar called The Saloon
Where all the young and handsome people go.
Her hair's a maraschino cherry red,
Stale as the crust of day-old bread.
Each day she has nothing else to do but
Go out and feed a poisoned liver, with an album full of pictures.
It's the only thing she has, besides her blood, that cannot leave her.
Now, she's sitting there waiting for a compliment,
While all the cigarettes she smokes collect in clouds and cover up
C wrinkled face that's frozen in a frown.
Brushes the ashes off a table that she's painted full of angels, says,
"Is this all the respect that I get?"
Cnd so, I propose a toast: To the lowlands most lonely ghost!
They call her Maya, Maya May.
The lonesome ghost of Leidseplein.
Kendra McKinley - Maya May Lyrics
Kendra McKinley - Maya May Lyrics
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English
Maya May's a painter out in Leidseplein.
She's holed up in a room atop a bar called The Saloon
Where all the young and handsome people go.
Her hair's a maraschino cherry red,
Stale as the crust of day-old bread.
Each day she has nothing else to do but
Go out and feed a poisoned liver, with an album full of pictures.
It's the only thing she has, besides her blood, that cannot leave her.
Now, she's sitting there waiting for a compliment,
While all the cigarettes she smokes collect in clouds and cover up
C wrinkled face that's frozen in a frown.
Brushes the ashes off a table that she's painted full of angels, says,
"Is this all the respect that I get?"
Cnd so, I propose a toast: To the lowlands most lonely ghost!
They call her Maya, Maya May.
The lonesome ghost of Leidseplein.
She's holed up in a room atop a bar called The Saloon
Where all the young and handsome people go.
Her hair's a maraschino cherry red,
Stale as the crust of day-old bread.
Each day she has nothing else to do but
Go out and feed a poisoned liver, with an album full of pictures.
It's the only thing she has, besides her blood, that cannot leave her.
Now, she's sitting there waiting for a compliment,
While all the cigarettes she smokes collect in clouds and cover up
C wrinkled face that's frozen in a frown.
Brushes the ashes off a table that she's painted full of angels, says,
"Is this all the respect that I get?"
Cnd so, I propose a toast: To the lowlands most lonely ghost!
They call her Maya, Maya May.
The lonesome ghost of Leidseplein.
Writer: KENDRA MCKINLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave