the dust from a four-day affiar is now landing
all over the floor and your brown legs
the gold-plated legs of my rival
whose eyes had no reason to fall
you led no clelibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head
you stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight
because of your struggle to make them
their taste for your past time is fading
remember the girls in the middle are always the first to fall off
you'll learn to live like a mouse,
searching the cracks in the floor to remember
all of the dregs in the crowd you barely recall
you led no clelibate life no skirt while chemicals danced on your head
you stole the keys to this ride and your fables are falling tonight