Black rags and brown sacks
Feeling like a paper bag
So freshen the skin peel the layers
brush it in brush it back
Doesn't really change the dream of legs and the taste of sin
Or the skin I'm in
Tears flooding this is too unbearable
Blood, skin tough but thin
and someone isn't going to win
Nope, no one wins.
We all lose if you walk away son
Young and feminine
Woman who art thou in control or so it seems
But tears will flow within all of us today
Solar eclipses fascinating
Change is in the wind.
Driving up the freeway you will be here soon
And we will drink drink drink
And say things good things bad things.
And decisions will be made,
Contracts drawn up
Feelings sated, brushed under the rug
Who will be the king?
Who is really the king?
No one is fornicating with consent
because after all, it is just a song.
An idea, a concept whose time has long gone.
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