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