Sat at the side of the pool at one of your houses. With wet white trousers on. And worlds collide as the evening continues. The dignity fucks off. Her brother's gone off to the strippers.
Well oh they might wear classic Reeboks. Or knackered Converse or tracky bottoms tucked in socks. But all of that's what the point is not. The point's that there ain't no romance around there.
I'm counting down on the days. Love seems strange to me. Excuse me, your killing me. With your heartbreak and wild signs. Your out there working, for something to open my eyes.
If you just get it together and read my mind. Then sleeping would be easy. And then I'll be there to acquiesce. I confess I'm in trouble. . Another afternoon of increments.
Leave yourself alone. Leave yourself alone. (Leave yourself alone). Can't you see. You're only here. To be torn apart. Based upon. And nothing else. .
I can still remember. When your city smelt exciting. I still get a whiff. Of that aroma now and then. Burglary and fireworks. The skies they were alighting.