Palm Reader

Fretful since the day we met
Strung up with strands of blonde hair
Just hanging around

Palm reader, you lied 
When you said that the One would come along
Palm reader, you lied
You were staring right at my love life 

Maybe we should just fake our own deaths
It’s much too cold waiting in the wings

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Illegal Firearms

City lights, beneath a burning skyline
Bums and taxi-cabs crawl on by
Left in the bar, lipstick note scrawled on a napkin
I should have washed my hands of her months ago
But for all my education, I never seem to fucking learn
Cross my heart and the choked street
The end is nigh

Chain-smoking Parliaments and making plans
Cable channel porn playing from the den
This time tomorrow night
Our rendezvous will be well under way

There’s always time for a lengthy dip in the local quarry
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