With the cops on your lips it's a routine If you'd stop your trips you could see what I mean I forgot not to slip 'bout you're under 18 You had in your hands
Leave it up to me It's a known Keep it in your fleece Don't worry the customs police, don't I'll tell you how good it can be, this lazy summer
But you got no relief from the pain in head And it's hollow greased and it says that you're dead But you make and tease and the things that you said They always stab your back I've been holding out for love ever since I had a heart