Morphine Smile

He’s flux he’s deluxe and i love his silly morphine smile.
he’s outer-space and pancake face, fine chiseled nose upon a plate.
he belongs unto the milky way, like cream and stars he’s chocolate bars.
too bad its a fallen fucking world, hard time to love a mad and tender girl.

1971 Shitfire! its the Coppers! Well C’mon baby lets run!

When he’s around i can’t stop smiling, i swear i can’t i won’t i shan’t i really can’t!
he’s my Cocteau twin my war to win, my fantasy version of heroin.
he belongs unto the laughing sea, of Swedish fish and misery.
too bad its a fallen fucking world, hard time to love mad and tender girl.

1971 Shitfire! its the Coppers! Well C’mon baby lets run!

His funny tummy taste’s of honey machine guns and metal suns.
he’s perfect scented chemistry black messy hair, he’s my TV he’s my TV i watch with glee!
he belongs unto the scattered ruins, he’s lost he’s pretty like Pompeii the city.
too bad its a fallen fucking world, hard time to love a mad and tender girl.

1971 Shitfire! its the Coppers! Well C’mon baby lets run!

His life’s a mess its in his kiss, take out his trash and grant his wish.
he holds my hand he understands these fingernails of never-land.
let my lips charm him with no harm, let my lips fall upon his forbidden alarm.
too bad its a fallen fucking world, hard time to love a mad and tender girl.

1971 Shitfire! its the Coppers! Well C’mon baby lets run!