Said I love you. 'till you don't know you're born. Said I love you. till the far side of dawn. But in the morning. If you must leave. Don't leave with your apologies.
Elvis Costello - Two Little Hitlers. . Why are we racing to be so old?. I'm up late pacing the floor. I won't be told. You have your reservations. I'm bought and sold.
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I saw a newspaper picture from the political campaign. A woman was kissing a child, who was obviously in pain. She spills with compassion, as that young child's face in her hands she grips.
Muscle baby, won't let go. Weekend baby, won't say,? No". Is she an active beauty?. I should say so. . Wooden bones and pretty lashes. Iodine for your baby's gashes.
See her picture in a thousand places. 'Cause she's this year's girl. You think, you all own little pieces. Of this year's girl. Forget your fancy manners.
Don't get smart or sarcastic. He snaps back just like elastic. Spare us the theatrics and the verbal gymnastics. We break wise guys just like matchsticks.
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I'm walking down Times Square. In the Electric Daylight. The sailors on shore leave stand out. In their perfect white. . I'm up here with my spying glass.
We're all going on a summer holiday. Vigilante's coming out to follow me. Heard somebody say, they're out to collar me. Anybody wanna swallow me?. . Takes two to tumble, it takes two to tango.
Well, I had a little feeling to have a big night. And woke up feeling small and not so brave and not quite right. I had to face the who am I and where is she and what did I do.
Who's this kid with his mumbo jumbo. Living in air-conditioned limbo?. Though they treat him just like a guest. He's living under threat of arrest. . Now that he's finally trying to make some sense.
(Toussaint). . Wake up early in the morning. I got you on my mind. Even a simple phone call would suit me just fine. . Tears, tears and more tears. I can't help but keep on crying.
Who dries your eyes when you cry real tears?. Who knows or cares what an imitation is?. Only you do. You can paint his nails. Make him wear high heels.
Hear silver trumpets will trill in the Arabic Streets of Seville. Oranges roll in the gutter. And you pick them up. And peel back the skin. To the red fruit within.
Oh, I used to be disgusted. Now I try to be amused. But since their wings have got rusted. You know the angels wanna wear my red shoes. . But when they told me 'bout their side of the bargain.