My science fiction twin. Is doing better than expected. He captured a little blonde trophy wife. Who's really very well connected. . And when he calls home with his alibi.
My brave, my brave, my brave face. . I've been livin' in style, unaccustomed as I am to the luxury life. I've been hittin' the town and it didn't hit back.
This town belongs to you and your tricks of confidence. All the pavements for miles around are littered with your footprints. Now every girl I get close to seems to be wearing your perfume.
All the children testified. That Miss Macbeth had a fishbone slide. In her cobweb tresses. Her eyes were black like first foot coal. Clutched as white as chalk-dust.
She came dancing right before my eyes. She said, she'd came to warn me. Before it dawned on me. I went walking on the blank hillside. . Where the sunset falls, where the sunset dies.
now those newsprints all over your face. well maybe that's why I can read you like a book. just when I thought I was getting my taste a bite. I go and lose my appetite.