Pablo

Baby i know i've done you wrong

But maybe if we are strong

We can kinda put it right

And the weekend will kinda be alright

Someday and its gonna be soon

If it's not impossible, like us sleeping on the moon

We'll get us a mortgage and grown up stuff like that

Or else we'll bottle and inject all the good times

That we've had

That's a fucking likely story

Orpheus won't watch jackanory

There's make up and ice cream and stubble on your face

And your clothes are pronounced versace and not versace

Right now, as i'm looking at you i wanna kiss you

Until you turn blue

Tie you up with words

And want you till it hurts

And then i'l need you some more

We've done our time in the bedrooms of the poor

I'm jealous of pablo and you

He will never paint me and all the money in the world

Will never make me

You'll never make me a beautiful girl

She's eating roses in the cinema of my dreams

I asked my waitress exactly what this means

"there's no place for beauty, not in here son

Take it outside with all your hopes, when you're done"

Depressed? you bet,

It's such a shame that i'm sleeping in the bed

Where you laid

"this is not an exit" that's what the label said

And so i knocked back a short

We're done out time

In the pubs of the north