I hurt my knuckles for you
but never can mean sometimes
if you're like me, and you like me.

If I was chocolate moose that **** butterflies for a living,
and sold them on the streets of San Fransisco,
so that I could sleep in your bed after the disco,
would you stay up all night and tell me your secrets?
or would you fall asleep?


I've sold myself clean,
in the most ***** of ways,
giving out hand hugs,
and those glances, that you know are really sensual,
but it's a secret,
because you want it so desperately
(we both do).

Be happy,
because you know that moments are moments and that sooner or later,
you'll be living in a moment,
and that moment,
will be ***.