Left wing, savoir faire Ageing flicks of my thin brown hair Like an elegy, soaking me, Drenched in the language of social mobility, But I don't seem to mind The gruesome link between People and time; It's an enemy, telling me The wheels of profit Are circling in the opposite. Life don't animate - Just creeps up on you slowly. Surely, holy water Flows as normal water does? Life don't animate - Just creeps up on you slowly. In Little Italy, I re-adhere. Sojourn in my guilt, Wrestle words as the apostrophes wilt,
Let the elegiac question why Accidents happen or the well will dry. So come, k** me quick, Tie me down To an anodyne drip, To the will of god, And the people with sticks; For filled with the shrill They show much better that Life don't animate - Just creeps up on you slowly. Surely, holy water Flows as normal water does? Life don't animate - Just creeps up on you slowly. Surely, holy water Flows as normal water does? In Little Italy, I re-adhere. In Little Italy, I re-adhere. In Little Italy...