The Rapture

Oh, the sun drenched French girls won't relate
To a frozen glare from the Northern State
Dreamin' of fat happy babies
Kickin' ladies on the Metro now
And the mirrors won't sing back divine
Be it choppin your hair or choppin a line
But you laugh-crack-up they
Laugh-crack up and smile
Whoo! Alright - let's fall apart
And the clock starts tickin now
Tick tick tick tick tick tick OW!
She said 'your allegory is far too blunt'
I said 'this ain't no laboratory your the cunt'
She said 'emotional distance, it dosn't rhyme
or resonate brillance from in it's time'
But is it lyrical genius or crap rock poetry?
I say the lineage runs Morrison, Patti Smyth and me
But maybe the reason we're so uninspired
Is cuz the hour is late and the bodies are tired
I think everyone here can agree
That a party ain't great cuz the booze is free
Now the free spirits ain't settin' no one's spirits free