@migu music@

He's moving into an Art Deco pad

To swell the ranks of the clinically sad

Shaking off the past with a change of address

But keeps his telephone number and hopes for the best

He makes a list of all his favourite friends

Then leaves his footprints on the steps that shine

With tears that he has wept again and again

He bought his clothes from a skateboard boutique

Hung around in places where nobody speaks

Got on line to an internet club

Played Trivial Pursuits with the Goddess of Love

And counted his imaginary friends, got up to ten

Lost count and then went out to walk the streets

Till God know when

He met a girl who liked a bit of a laugh

He gained the youth he'd forgotten to have

So now they mess about with things that are highly illegal

Often get mistaken for interesting people

And no-one ever seems to ring their bell

But do they care, well do they hell

They're gonna kiss and never tell again and again