Purple Born

Oh no, he's very poor, his shoes they seem so old

You know, his beautiful mother could not educate her son

You know, her gentle radiation, in fact is very weak

There's nothing like an occult train to halt the poetry

You know the streets belong to the ones who make them

But leather boy and leather girl they don't give a damn

The girl she won't talk to me, can't recognise it as my own

You know those good for nothing, they buy what they can't

afford

Oh boy, you know no time now

They're all clogged with hate

But love is just like a game for fools to win at

Oh no there's something wrong, I've heard he likes guitar

It's not an intuition, take it as a fact

No rest til the future slips, like some silly cuckoo clock

While my little jealous husband he's out walking the dogs

Oh boy, here comes another day

And there's nothing else to care

Cos you know the facts are hard

Push the ashtray over here

Like summer of 98

Why not just fuck it