Picture this – I’m gay in December
Picture this – freeze the cold weather
You got clutched in religion, you'd take off the lids
And, oh, your head is beautiful.
I’m in the phone-booth and don’t wanna cross a whore,
Mounting like a fugitive. Your cigarette
Is tentative. A bucket of the ocean, oh,
Like a cabinet of wax, yet, oh
Your head is beautiful.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment