Ungdomskulen
Only In Novels
All this is, is just a song that goes like thisand it goes on and on and on and onyou can kiss the pope, you can pass the pipeyou can pray for praying sake,but all it adds up to is your lifewhen you're 64 the pussy play declinestrembling hands on dried-upflowers are not ideal for Valentinesmodern life's a bore, everything's definedpolka-dotted, plastic wrappedface to face till it's phased outwe can ask for more, by not asking at alllet's forget how it is done and try and fail till it's a farceshe said, fuck me like a poet,like someone tasting winethere's no love without some smut,so take the raw with the refinedwe can stay indoors, just let the world go bythere's nothing there we haven't seenand if there is then that's alrightnow hold that thought,through the night, alright?
From Letras Mania