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Manners to endure Sculptures still sore Thinking of someone As the imagination it runs away Grateful I begin to play Euphoric in schemes Scattered through dreams Prophetic she seems But I know in the end you’ll come crawling back Oh how I have to laugh Profound in her wake Coked up on dates There’s she goes again As she’s scratching out the eyes of the ones in the suits Black painted nails with stockings to suit And she’s wiping up the thread Talking on the dead And she’s playing with their name Startling the main (?) Scourging the frames So I went along with her What else could I do? What else could I do? What else could I do? Elections of ideas Tantalize my ears And saaaaay And they say. Profound in her wake Coked up on dates There’s she goes again With stockings to suit What else could I do? With stockings to suit What else could I do? And with stockings to suit |
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