Think big, girl, like a king, think kingsize.
Did you learn nothing in America? I've placed four big bananas in my lap
In New York I don't dream.
I always wanted to be less subculturally lonely,
but here I see no subculture. No, no future.
No big science. No big bananas. But I found no, no future
I rock the bananas gently, move back and forth.
Don't wake them
What is soft dick rock?
Using the elements of dick to create a softer, toned-down sound.
I sing to the bananas. The skin is getting thin and brown
Norway. The girls are pretty. I'm one fourth Danish.
If you have a child you better learn how to bake.
I beckon the cupcake, the huge capitalist clit.
I search the oven, scrub the racks, put my whole head inside, but I just can't find it.
It's like looking out the window in there
The bananas rot slowly in my lap, silently, wildly, girly.
The rash is an opportunity, a common disease, something in common, a community, the definition must be: something attacking itself
Four flaking, flaccid fingers.
No future. Oh, the fruit flies
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
