Bouncy little number from Alex and a day by the Seine


I’m gonna rise above the tempest
Sit on a cloud and be selfish
Blow kisses to Petunia and stroke her dog
The girl is out to fool you
And when she’s tired and feeling peculiar
I will ask her is she still out kissing frogs

For despite the cuts and scarring
The undeniable self harming
Shes still a girl who loves to play around
And I can see it in her strutting
And feel it in her touching
She has lots of room despite standing her ground

And when we’re on the pierhead
And she starting to see deep red
You can hold her close and offer her a line
For you have some words of comfort
Which she’ll take and throw them upwards
So they fall down on your passion just in time

You ask if shes a harlot
Shes says no I’m just a pilot
I will fly you to the wildest of your dreams
But she still wants to inspect it
She says you can’t go unprotected
Biologically things are not always what they seem

So I will rise above the tempest
Sit in judgement on her message
And drink Pernod from a glass made by Lalique
And when the last sip has been savoured
I will catch the train to Auvers
Knowing now that both of us can rest complete