Bacelli

A year before a Sprinter fucked the boardwalk I was in Provence fuckin' tying my shoes Thirty days before I broke from love-lust I'm at a French-ass bus stop lost and confused You found me, got me, with words to say Placed me in a mattress soft like your god-fearing arms Another sun pierces our blinds today But Steven you don't fuckin bow to stars I'll be fuckin' waiting at the bus stop after five You're speaking English to me, my French is not that nice I want my motives I want to know them What makes your shoulders shiver? Is it aversion to the future? Is it to eat your life like fast food? Is it what your God has in store for you? Did you waste a wish on a comet's arc? 'Cause Steven you don't bow to stars I'll be fuckin' waiting at the bus stop after five You're speaking English to me, my French is not that nice And always awake before me, always before your guide You made a home here for me far from the forty-nine Another sun pierces our blinds today, but Steven you don't bow to stars He tries to take...