Skinny little brats Walking down Avenue A Dangling their cigarettes Their Independence Day Tears like filigrees Wear them on their sleeves Nobody's main squeeze It's thirty-five degrees
Poetry of ordinary life is what I live for They just wanna bei heard... said
My words are like confetti And you never pick them up They fall to the ground I need someone to lift me up
So diaphanous so ephemeral And all those bad words They never learned in school Groovy like my mama was In her black turtleneck She was so high-strung She was so low tech
Poetry and tattooed dreams And fourteen carat nose rings The children of elite Are trying to be street saying
My words are like confetti And you never pick them up They fall to the ground I need someone to lift me up Repeat chorusTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
