He's moving into an Art Deco pad
To swell the ranks of the clinically sad
Shaking off the past with a change of address
But keeps his telephone number and hopes for the best.
He makes a list of all his favourite friends
Then leaves his footprints on the steps that shine
With tears that he has wept again... and again...
He bought his clothes from a skateboard boutique
Hung around in places where nobody speaks
Got on line to an internet club
Played Trivial Pursuits with the Goddess of Love
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And counted his imaginary friends, got up to ten,
Lost count and then went out to walk the streets
'Til God know when.
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He met a girl who liked a bit of a laugh,
He gained the youth he'd forgotten to have.
So now they mess about with things that are highly illegal
Often get mistaken for interesting people
And no-one ever seems to ring their bell
But do they care, well do they hell
They're gonna kiss and never tell again... and again...
Artist: Amelia Curran
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