Crying on a plane to New York, New York No permit to work nor play Green card, did you get a green card? It's only a short stay - Traveling alone fans flames Smokeless, smouldering I depart without declaration Almost feeing I could become someone Except for the hem of my skirt's undone Achilles heel, clumsy hole Somebody stop me baring my soul Guilt-ridden, provoking One part my mother with the favour-prompting Stranger prodding to see how things feel Just out of sight I'm perfecting imperfection That's what I tell myself I tell myself There is no-body else Steward's a sleaze, lives in Queens Aims to please, to meet his kind of girl See the world, travel by token air-fares Now I lie on a gay friend's sofa Shakespeare's cuckold throws a blanket over My many Manhattans, tourist whims Meat-packing district, my Chelsea mourning He takes us out for hard-boiled eggs Salt-beef bagel, oh he's got good legs But the whiskey comes up, the rain pours down No real cure in this grid-locked town I'm perfecting imperfection That's what I tell myself I tell myself There is no-body else Perfecting imperfection That's what I'll tell them when The flights are flown, the men are all kissed When there's nowhere left to yearn Still I feel a shell breaking Not sure whose, sure I'm not faking When was my Lord so ungently tempered Stopped his ears with my lack of repentance Lack of repentance RepentanceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
