My baby pretends to be my baby Does a fine line in deception What night did she fall? Or is it better to know what i did the night before? There's nothing
Everything looks strange to me like a recurring dream I think I know what's coming, til it turns out wrong I've been away, away too long I can't change
Charlie, you're not my Charlie anymore You're screwing it up You're killing your soul With an audience looking on If I hadn't left early last night I
Well there's a band on every corner But I'm not in one I hate three out of every four of them But I haven't got a gun I was ten hours asleep But I stayed
Can you divide the meaning By the number of your words? The money in your pocket By the masters that you serve? It's not the destination It's what's
We've seen her type before Sandals and the hair They fall in love with big dumb boys And we sit and stare So, we walk the long way home Glasses in our
Don't love too long, I loved too long And fell out of fashion like an old song Over the years, our thoughts were the same Then in a minute, she changed
" There was the stage Two red lights and a dodgy P.A You trod the planks way back then And it's strange that you're Here again - here again " " And I
Torch the moon, burn the schools She wrote in red on her bedroom wall, "Nothing's pure" The paint runs to the floor She laughs too easily and cries too
Broad horizon as I walk from your embrace What I feel is nothing but the taste of you I get buried in your mouth I fall in, I don't care if I can't climb
It's getting harder to decide on which way i should go Should i let myself down fast? I don't think i wanna know It's over said but understated just how
The light from the street it comes filtering through your room Just another night just another dream you're putting yourself into And outside the streets
Gone surfing Tell the world I'm out Gone surfing Tell the world I'm out Here in the sun Here in the sun In the sea It's all good with me
He'll come in and sit by me In the grainy light of four o'clock He sits on his hands a lot He's kind of nervous I don't think he's got much money But
said November 11, Ned Kelly died Shame Fraser shame, we all cried For you Gough, you Gough, you Gough Edward Gough Whitlam You Gough, you Gough, you Gough Edward Gough Whitlam
Monday - my day of rest Tuesday - I do my best Wednesday - I wander round the town Thursday - I get depressed Friday - my hair's a mess But then the
Her floor is my ceiling I know what goes on He finishes her quickly And then he gets up to go She walks to the lounge room And puts on a tape Lights
She came from the Cocos Islands With a limp and a snow-shaker, huh Hocked by a fine Arabian ginger Monsignor He said, "You ain't get's nothing 'Cause
