She’s not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do- oh yeah!
She’s well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane


The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust


[continua?]









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