Los Campesinos! Follow

Left nothing more than the circle of stubble rash around your chest
My life was saved by a packet of nineteen cigarettes
Carried in my left breast pocket for a closest friend

A sleeping bag on the floor, two slips like buffalo horns
They said that boy's too lazy, you were clearly forewarned
A jealous ex silenced the room, he said that you were a whore
Do you kiss your mummy's lips with that mouth?

She imagined everything I said in falsetto
The only way to justify my childish despair
I spent my last six fifty in a public phone box
Graffited genitalia from the ceiling to floor

Play the reckless, rapid like a fruit machine
I see gargoyles in the floral of the duvet cover
You see melodrama move from one sentence to the other
And many years practice of speaking in hushed tones

Left nothing more than the circle of stubble rash around your chest
My life was saved by a packet of nineteen cigarettes