All the pretty boys you call
Won´t keep you warm at all
When winter eats the fall.
Hair doth not a lover make:
Your gentle lashes shake,
Your dainty ankles quake.
But oh,
I´ll be around..
When all this fucking fashion brings you down
To pick your pretty heart
right off..
the ground.

When they take you on the town
With their designer crowns,
They´ll only bring you down, and all their cash
can´t buy you from my arms
Let´s play hard triumphs over charms
Let´s send these spoiled brats to face the feds and gendarme!
Oh, I´ll be around..
When all this name dropping brings you down
To pick your pretty heart
right off..
the ground.

Ohhh, I´ll be around...
When all the fucking fashion brings you down
To pick your pretty
heart
right off..
the ground