She paints roses, even makes them smell good
And then she draws titties on the khazy wall
Drowns kittens just to get a thrill
And writes sermons in the Sunday Chronicle
You like your life in a free-form style
You'll take an inch but you'd love a mile
There never seems to be quite enough
Floating around to fill your lovin' cup
Why don't you go get him
I'm his biggest fan
You gotta tell him
He's still the man
Long distance baby
So far from home
Don't you think maybe you could put him on
Every time I think that I'm the only one who's lonely
Someone calls on me
And every now and then I spend my time in rhyme and verse
And curse those faults in me
Gentle as a butterfly she moves without a sound
I call her on the telephone, she says be there by eight
Tonights the night shes moving in and I can hardly wait
When we were at school, our games were simple.
I played a janitor, you played a monitor.
Then you played with older boys and prefects.
What's the attraction in what they're doing