Salt grips the road awaits his live 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 your 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 streets 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 

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