Pablo

Baby i know i've done you wrong
But maybe if we are strong
We can kinda put it right
And the weekend will kinda be alright
Someday and its gonna be soon
If it's not impossible, like us sleeping on the moon
We'll get us a mortgage and grown up stuff like that
Or else we'll bottle and inject all the good times
That we've had

That's a fucking likely story
Orpheus won't watch jackanory
There's make up and ice cream and stubble on your face
And your clothes are pronounced versace and not versace
Right now, as i'm looking at you i wanna kiss you
Until you turn blue
Tie you up with words
And want you till it hurts
And then i'l need you some more
We've done our time in the bedrooms of the poor

I'm jealous of pablo and you
He will never paint me and all the money in the world
Will never make me
You'll never make me a beautiful girl

She's eating roses in the cinema of my dreams
I asked my waitress exactly what this means
"there's no place for beauty, not in here son
Take it outside with all your hopes, when you're done"
Depressed? you bet,
It's such a shame that i'm sleeping in the bed
Where you laid
"this is not an exit" that's what the label said
And so i knocked back a short
We're done out time
In the pubs of the north