My art school babe with your palette-knives and brushes, painted face, Egyptian eye-brows and bright red lips Pale white make-up, tight black skirts like Juliette Greco And there's me quoting pretentious chat up lines from Marcel Proust, Jean Cocteau and Jean-Paul Sartre
Sitting by a gasfire in a drafty bedsit the art school babe quotes William Blake and she rolls a joint And I think "Oh oh, I've scored", start to make myself at home But the room starts moving as she starts to get me stoned
I close my eyes and give in, the room goes in a spin My lips are dry, I wander around with a ridiculous grin I grovel on the floor, I think "Yeah I think I can make her" Then I wake up and realize I've been kissing the refrigerator
Art school chaps with creative grand illusions My sketch pad at the ready, my eager charcoal in my hand Boring the world for hours with political theories just to impress anyone who listens while my art school babe just puts another inch of make-up on her face
And she says to me: "Arty farty, you'll never fool your Auntie who knew you when you picked your nose and wet your pants" How did she know that? Arty farty, I try to throw a party to impress my peers I struck a creative stance
Art school cat, ah, I was really on a mission I made my play for my art school babe By humming jazz tunes with words by Furlinghetti I thought I was ever so cool, but I was really such an obvious, pretentious, irritating little fool for my art school babe Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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