Mothers Tell Your Children Not

Sing Your Praise Of Progress And The Doom Machine, The Naked Truth Is Still Taboo Whenever It Can Be Seen.

I Can Picture The Color Of The Song, Or The Shape Of It, Or Who It Is That I'm Trying To Appeal To, In The Song, And What I'm Trying To, Almost, Reinforce My Feelings For. And I Know That Sounds Sort Of Vague And Abstract, But I've Got A Handle On It When I'm Doing It.

You Swore You'd Never Compromise With The Mystery Tramp, But Now You Realise He's Not Selling Any Alibis As You Stare Into The Vacuum Of His Eyes And Say, Do You Want To Make A Deal How Does It Feel

She Makes Love Just Like A Woman.

Done So Many Evil Things In The Name Of Love, It's A Crying Shame. I Never Did See No Fire That Could Put Out A Flame.