French Bacon

Have you heard about the new sex, new sex?

It's a reason to be nicer to you.

I see you putting on the brand X spandex,

Everybody needs someone to do,

And now I'm living in the middle of your street,

And living here with aplomb,

She gets a sneak peek at the meat she's gonna eat,

And she's a time-bomb, time-bomb.

And now she's living in a shack on the firing line,

With a fridge filled with french bacon,

Mouthing all the words of a famous mime,

For whom she's commonly mistaken.

I love her, I knew her,

I knew she couldn't hang,

And now she's dying in a ditch on the county line,

From a device of her own making.

I'm never good enough at saying all the right things,

Sometimes I say too much.

Sometimes I feel like a puppet with no strings,

Dying and desperate for your touch.

And now she's living in a shack on the firing line,

With a fridge filled with french bacon,

Mouthing all the words of a famous mime,

For whom she's commonly mistaken.

I love her, I knew her,

I knew she couldn't hang,

And now she's dying in a ditch on the county line,

From a device of her own making.

Nobody's all bad, nobody's all good,

Nobody lives forever, but I wish we could,

We define forever, define forever,

Define forever, define forever, define forever!

And now she's living in a shack on the firing line,

With a fridge filled with French bacon,

Mouthing all the words of a famous mime,

For whom she's commonly mistaken.

I love her, I knew her,

I knew she couldn't hang.