Lyrics The Common Touch - Parenthetical Girls

The Common Touch

I came out of my mother
Renowned for compounding numbers
Came out of my mother
With a head blessed with figures
And with yours now above me
Both long and unlovely
I think we can safely say
Such sums become me
A tryst as disingenuous as this
You know what I am
So let’s not pretend
You’re short on grace
But you’ve an empty space
But I fit just right
Yes I fill just right
Right, right
I came out of my mother
As pure as power
You’re delicious and desperate
And God knows where your dress went
Still smug and smart, well bless your precious heart
Will I stay the night
Might I stay the night
Forgive me if i respectfully decline
Cause theres just no time
And I’ve got my pride
While wealth and waste may breed expensive taste
It’s true what they say
Take pleasure from the simple things you pass along the way
Should fortunes fade, f course they do recede
We feign no feinted praise
But pity not the pretty things you break along the way
There’s pleasure in the simple things you break
Take pleasure from the simple things you break