Up before the Flesh Parade… The pretty faces… The bedroom eyes… The
Pouting lips. The longing thighs say «Come in for a night, you won’t
Regret it — but don’t make any plans». She likes a man, but a hand is just
As effective. A mutual need. No need to talk. No moonlit walks, no
Sun-drenched beaches. Just a bed and just an alarm clock, says your time
Is up. Go find another body (boy, girl) in the Flesh Parade.
The line-up never changes. And, sure, nobody’s perfect. Just good at
Perfect crimes. We have the standard phrases; ask the time. How about
The weather? Don’t care about the spots. My only interest is your mind.
(Got the time for a grind in the Flesh Parade?)
