Seein’ a lot of red bottoms. Yo,
I’m closer to deciding who I am.
I said I’d give it a year.
Make sure this ain’t some ‘phase’
Like the folks at church say it is.
But I’m all growed up now,
(still not sure when that happened,
I sure don’t feel no different),
Can’t go back now.
And my parents still sleep next door
While I watch young ladies fuck.
Knickers round their ankles.
Hey, let me kiss your neck and
Maybe one day this’ll be artwork.
Saving pictures for something special.

Got a tongue full of rum and an earful
Of something else. Hey, hey,
You know we’re not like them, baby?
You know we’ll grow up different, right?
But you’re so close to thirty now and,
I’m not always sure who I’m seeing in my head.
I’m not always sure who I’m seeing in my bed.
I think you’re in there somewhere:

I’ve never written about this before. It’s a problem, you know? It’s the
Stained handkerchiefs I won’t peg out in public –
Because you know the damn neighbours will comment on the blood.
Ssh. It’s just strawberry jam.

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