Would you stand up for this kind of beauty?
Cause this kind of beauty won't stand up for you.
It won't lift a finger
For some lazy dreamer.
Here it comes the average dirty word,
Pardon my French
But I'm sitting on an park bench,
Watching yearning cats
Milk-fed little brats.
And they say:
Love won't pick
The slanted or the slick
Or the lovesick,
And I'm lovesick.
So I say
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs.
Summer evening,
Cats are screaming
For love.
Is summer evening,
The cats screaming
For love.
So I say
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs
Can't you feel the stench?
F-word, f-word
Pardon my French
But it's bs, bs.
