Salt grips the road awaits his lift again 
street orange glow shades the odds 
against one more sip a shoe a miss a shaving nick 
one extra kiss who's to know whatever! 
not up to me not up to you 
swings don't swing the parks been dead for years 
how do you know the last swing weren't your last for 
good hard book on freaks fresh summer peach creased magazine sugar chocolate 
treat who's to know whatever! 
not up to me not up to you 
The street's so long where she lost her pocket purse kept the last picture of the man 
she committed first cracked windscreen rain french murder play junk take 
away tired street parades who's to know whatever! whatever! 
not up to me not up to you
not up to anything we do