Well I don't know if I'm wrong 'cause he's only just gone. Here's to another relationship. Bombed by excellent breed of gamete disease. I'm sure when I'm older I'll know what that means. Cried when he should and he laughed when he could. Here's to the woman with her face in the mud. And an overcast play just taken away from the lover's in love at the centre of stage. Loving is fine if you have plenty of time for walking on stilts at the edge of your mind. Loving is good if your dick's made of wood and the dick left inside only half understood him. What makes him come and what makes him stay? What make the animal run, run away? What makes him stall, what makes him stand? And what shakes the elephant now? And what makes a man? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. No, I don't know you anymore. I don't know if I'm wrong 'cause he's only just gone. Why the fuck is this day taking so long? I was a lover of time and once he was mine. I was a lover indeed, I was covered in weed. Cried when he should and he laughed when he could. Well closer to god is the one who's in love. And I walk away cause I can. Too many options may kill a man. Loving is fine if it's not in your mind but I've fucked it up now, too many times. Loving is good if it's not understood, but I'm the professor. And feel that I should know what makes him come and what makes him stay? What make the animal run, run away and what makes him tick apart from him prick? And the lonelier side of the jealousy stick. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. Hell I don't know you any more. Well I don't know if I'm wrong 'cause he's only just gone. Here's to another relationship. Bombed by my excellent breed of gamete disease, I finished it off with some French wine and cheese.
