Rain falls gracefully on my forehead Would've been poetic if it wasn't tragic A lover who is kind of magic A puppy to take care
Right up a mansion, bagining on its gate Longing for the snow, for the fluffy white snow I'd trade it right away, never felt so hollow Living in the streets, sleeping on a crate
But I got to slap back to reality No fairy tale, no hospitaliy I'll let them beat me up, kill me if Only they do as they told, they promised Not to know of my abnormality To prove them once and for all that I don't have any scraps of gold
She is so cute, wasn't she a lesbian? Oh wait a minute I think he's a guy He looks so skinny, maybe european His skin is pale and his hands seem dry
Enough for them to blend with thorns and trunks And rose petals and such I think he reminds me of someone but I can't figure much Something like a weird category of porn and here it comes again, all the memory Sensory imagination that comes along The lips, the hips, the snow, the blow The kill, the slap back That I don't have any scraps of gold, I don't have any scraps of gold
So entertaining, fucking memorandum With a point and a happy ending On hard cover, is worth recommending Read it while it's hot, don't forget the condom
Got to slap back to reality No fairy tale, no hospitaliy I'll let them beat me up, kill me if Only they do as they told, they promised Not to know of my abnormality To prove them once and for all that I don't have any scraps of gold