I write a letter every day I don't believe a word I say Curare Ball points in my hand I like to shock my fellow man
I often like to yell abuse At helpless strangers on the tubes I've got a weakness for the arts I like to study private parts
I've got a right to be obscene Because the people are so mean They walk straight by me in the street They've got no to time to speak to freaks
So I take pleasure when they squirm Some stupid people never learn I hope they think of me in bed Cos' I'll be lovely till I'm dead Lonely... LoneleeyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
