salt grips the road awaits his lift again street orange glow shades the odds against one
more sip a shoe a miss a shaving nick one extra kiss who´s to know whatever! not up
to me not up to you swings don´t swing the parks been dead for years how do you
know the last swing weren´t your last for good hard book on freaks fresh summer
peach creased magazine sugar chocolate treat who´s to know whatever! not up
to me not up to you the street´s so long where she lost her pocket purse kept the last
picture of the man she committed first cracked windscreen rain french murder play
junk take away tired street parades who´s to know whatever! whatever! not up to me
not up to you
not up to anything we do