Could I fall deep in love with the girl from the coast,
She looks so neat, she looks so smart dressed in her dead grandmothers clothes.
In her hand she holds the knife that cuts the bread that I will eat,
I'll see she prays, I'll see she sleeps and I will see she cleans her teeth.
I'm wasting her time with fickle heart and fickle mind,
I think it's high time we started wearing clothes that suit our age.
Chocolate is the gift she delivers in a box,
That she grips far too tightly so knuckles all turn white.
But her mind is alert she can see that I'm aware that my eyes no longer care wether we're bruising hips tonight.
(and if we both stopped smoking cigarettes we had have cash for the drugs we haven't taken yet,
If we got drunk maybe we'd forget that our nights have been filled with bad sex.)
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