Frenchy, I'm faking,
Been longing to stir you up,
Changing looks slightly like back in the '90s,

Far and away whistle delayed delights.

The prospect of lightning was ever so frightening,

I said youre kisses are nice,
But I'm looking for hills to roll,
Down with abandon and no understanding.


I borrowed your suitcase and filled it with pearls and gold,
You let me down lightly,

I killed you politely