Standin' at the door. Of the Pink Flamingo. Crying in the rain. It was a kind of so so love. And I'm gonna make sure. It doesn't happen again. . You and I had to be.
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My supermarket trolley. Glides around the shelves. Of frozen foods. My supermarket trolley. Glides around the shelves. Of pre-packed goods. It rattles an accompaniment.
Numbers. Who's the person that you woke up next to today. If you were any older. Then you'd know you'd have to pay your way. Well maybe you do already.
Always the dreamer. But never the dead. You had a rocky road mapped out somewhere in your head. Anyone in your way. Was a spike in your side. With one hand in the wallet.
Always the dreamer. But never the dead. You had a rocky road mapped out somewhere in your head. Anyone in your way. Was a spike in your side. With one hand in the wallet.
Why don't I just give up. And do myself a favour?. My life is slowly turning grey. And losing all its flavour. Everything the same. Again and again and again.
Always the dreamer. But never the dead. You had a rocky road mapped out somewhere in your head. Anyone in your way. Was a spike in your side. With one hand in the wallet.
Why don't I just give up. And do myself a favor?. My life is slowly turning gray. And losing all its flavor. . Everything the same. Again and again and again.
Everywhere I go, I take a little piece of you. I collect, I reject, photographs I took of you. The towns that I passed through, I've got to have a memory.
Why don't I just give up. And do myself a favour?. My life is slowly turning grey. And losing all its flavour. Everything the same. Again and again and again.
Come and meet. Another kind of love. Meet another kind of love. Different than the real thing. But just as demanding. And just as demeaning. . Treacled in apathy.
Martin. Martin is talking to you. . Martin is a boy with problems. Martin has a family history. Martin has too many nightmares. He lives in a fantasy.
Little rough rhinestone. Where will your love go today?. Sometimes you think. You had none to start with anyway. . You will lose the deep pools. And the blues will cloud up.
We've hit those depths again. Playing black games again. Black mellow lies. And the narrowing of eyes. Playing those games again. You hold the reins again.
Would you like to taste a little pain. From the fickle hand of fame. Aren't you happy that the road to success. Is littered with drugs and sex. It's all here for your delectation.
In a city lost in time. Somewhere sordid and sublime. We met over a gin and lime. One rainy evening. Survivors clinging to the mast. Trying to make the moment last just.
Passing time in the afternoon. Cleaning the bathroom floor. Rearrange things in the dining room. Covers the chip on the kitchen door. The paperboy winks as he hands her a paper.
Oh i would believe. that she's a real diva. She tugs at the reins. of a hundred chihuahuas. She'll live a few years. but she'll have some adventures. Then sing of her sequins.
Oh God, it's another night. And your head is feeling like a lump of lead. You should never have drunk those party-fours. You should of been home being good instead.