Pink Lunettes

Ooh Turn it on A taste of chill anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunettes, baby I see her in pink lunettes I see her in pink lunettes I see her through pink lunettes Baby Woo It was like, it was like, aah Taste of chill anisette Looking good in pink lunettes Flashing billboards, sick regret, baby Flaming stupor superjet I see her in pink lunettes Baby Yeah Manfred climbed into my nape Wrapped up in magnetic tape All my life, magnetic tape Falling Playing And chop, chop, chop, chop Chop, chop, chop, chop Chopped up like Richter's alias I'm fading away, my position in space Oh well A Chekovian smile, Chekovian smile A Chekovian smile of lost orchards A Chekovian smile of lost orchards Softened mother's face Ooh, soften mother's face, softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the star Coney Island, Richter's alias Never, never, never, never know who you are A taste of chill anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunettes maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret A flaming superjet Looking good in pink lunettes, ooh Ooh Huh A Chekovian smile, a Chekovian smile A Chekovian smile of lost orchards, yeah Soften mother's face, softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the Star My position in space Fading, fading, fading, fading, fading, fading A taste of chill anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunettes maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret, baby A flaming superjet, wild pink lunettes Manfred climbed into my nape, whoa Wrapped up in magnetic tape In my life magnetic tape Falling in magnetic tape Maybe Maybe Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of those pink lunettes Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming Screaming, and, dreaming Screaming Those pink lunettes Aw, soften mother's face, softened mother's face Softened mother's face as she looked up from the star Coney Island, Richter's alias Never, never, never, never know who you are A taste of chill anisette, baby Looking good in pink lunettes maybe Billboards flashing, sick regret A flaming superjet But I see her in pink lunettes, uh I should run and hide Or die in a generational divide It's getting wild I'll fall in a generational divide Was I born too late For the golden days of my nanny state? We'd never cry And I side with the generational divide