all me own work
We went home the dark way, by the boneyard
But I wasn't scared with your denim arm around
And when our lips met, that grim setting changed into
Technicolor. Like the Wizard of Oz.
And I was wearing the red shoes.
My head spun as your tobacco breath met mine
We smoked between snogs.
Silk Cut Red and Peter Stuyvesant -
king size, I think.
And never had anything tasted sweeter.
I was so confused:
I was in love
I wanted to get married
I wanted a fag!
My lips raw and chewed, the ultimate
marks of love
Desire creeping under my winter coat
"Don't come to the door with me. I'm
supposed to be with my mate!
You're married. My Dad will go mad!
You must go!
You will phone me - won't you?"