Lyrics:

Salt grips the road awaits his life again street orange glow against one more sip a shoe a miss a shaving nick. One extra kiss, whose to know whatever! Not up to me, Not up to you Swings don't swing the parks been dead for years How do you know the last swing weren't your last for good Hard book on freaks, fresh summer peach, creased magazine Sugar chocolate treat whose to know whatever! Not up to me, not up to you The streets so long where she lost her pocket purse Keep the last picture of the man she committed first Cracked windscreen rain French murder play, junk take away Tired street parades who's to know whatever! Not up to me, not up to you. Not up to anything we do.