She washed a kitten and had today no answer yet
Regards for people who play always in dismay
Mack sleeve on a coat I believe, but she wouldn't say
Torn cup, fly up above
Some paper lie and a tire-track of love
Would you hit me please
Got a liver disease
No waiting for the telephone
I walked on frozen banter and end of time
Regards from the people who stare at me and realign
Tapped beams coming into the seams in this coat of mine
Way up, from up above
Torn paper lines and a tire-track of love
Would you hit me please
Got a liver disease
And wait for the telephone