Give me back my pictures of me Me, you, and him that makes three It figures the wheezing will measure your rate of depress And I hope that you know Like a bitch in heat I hope she knows
So put another penny in and turn the crank Until the frames cease to move And the movie turns into a photo A photo the size of a kiss I hope she knows
Staring at this Parisian sex flick Where the characters don’t meet The characters don’t speak And the characters are like mirrors facing mirrors: Space always expanding
So put another coin in and turn the crank Until the frames cease to move And the movie turns into a photo A photo the size of my fist I hope she knows
A hiccup in paradise I keep you jealously to myself In a photo the size of a kiss A kiss in the shape of a bullet
On phone lines and letterhead I’m dying about, I’m dying about On phone lines and letterhead I’m dying about, I’m dying about
I’ve watched you whore yourself for one more thing Why don’t you sell yourself for one more? There’s always one more thing. Why don’t you sell yourself? If I can’t have you, no one will
Pushing a lover to love another Are you turned on? Are you turned on? Pushing a lover to love another Are you turned on? Are you turned on?
A hiccup in paradise I keep you jealously to myself In a photo the size of a kiss A kiss in the shape of a bullet
On phone lines and letterhead I’m dying about, I’m dying about On phone lines and letterhead I’m dying about, I’m dying about
A hiccup in paradise I keep you jealously to myself In a photo the size of a kiss A kiss in the shape of a bullet
I keep you jealously to myself I keep you jealously to myself I keep you jealously to myself I keep you jealously to myself