all the cars down the bottom, windmill chasing, calling police so, so we’re placing weight on minds. ‘88 red sports car NW dated, counting the sleeps I’m counting, waiting, stalled inside. there’s no tyres to save our skins, they’re bald and old, their advice won’t change our plans through an old telescope for close up faces you’re cornering the fire it works in your favour, televised like the all night long at 3’o feeling you get in your legs when you’re dancing on the ceiling, friends of mine. And you change the beat disguised like a call to realise. you just made a pass in that
reflection, you’re fixing your hair or asking questions, you decide turn it around, the place is a fountain youth you’re squealing, offering advice that
sounds appealing, nervous fun ‘cept the cheating’s in your blood and the hardest word is love. Let’s not starve here today, none that behaviour, eating like a princess I’m gonna save you, stay at mine And we’re carving up the courses we’re not playing don’t want to
hear the swearwords you’re spraying undermined. I’m not revealing unless your feelings are long term.