Salt grips the road awaits his lift again street orange glow shades the odds against one More sip a shoe a miss a shaving nick one extra kiss who's to know whatever not up To me not up to you swings don't swing the parks been dead for years how do you Know the last swing weren't your last for good hard book on freaks fresh summer Peach creased magazine sugar chocolate treat who's to know whatever not up To me not up to you the street's so long where she lost her pocket purse kept the last Picture of the man she committed first cracked windscreen rain french murder play Junk take away tired street parades who's to know whatever whatever not up to me Not up to you Not up to anything we do
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