salt grips the road awaits his lift again street orange glow shades the odds against one
  more sip a shoe a miss a shaving nick one extra kiss who's to know whatever! not up
  to me not up to you swings don't swing the parks been dead for years how do you
  know the last swing weren't your last for good hard book on freaks fresh summer
  peach creased magazine sugar chocolate treat who's to know whatever! not up
  to me not up to you the street's so long where she lost her pocket purse kept the last
  picture of the man she committed first cracked windscreen rain french murder play
  junk take away tired street parades who's to know whatever! whatever! not up to me
  not up to you
  not up to anything we do