| I’m gone in a flick, but back in a second
|
| With salted skin, rash for no reason
|
| Boys are loading their arms, girls gasp with envy
|
| F-f-for whom are they mimicking endlessly?
|
| Same old sadness in small lumps on my jaw
|
| For lusting after is the usual freak show
|
| May your girl come, birdie die under this spur
|
| F-f-f-fingers angrily sunk on the jugular, then
|
| Girlfriend
|
| Don’t feel like a girlfriend
|
| But lover
|
| Damn, I’d be your lover
|
| Girlfriend
|
| Don’t feel like a girlfriend
|
| But lover
|
| Damn, I’d be your lover (Touché, touché yeah)
|
| Yes sir, I am wet, for I abandoned my fame in the lake
|
| Let’s see now how fast you’re breathing
|
| And how long this will all take
|
| Those who used to pass by me
|
| Think they are baffling a liar
|
| F-fuck is you?
|
| You don’t even taste much better!
|
| Came back steaming in sweats in the morning
|
| I muscled in for I wanted to hold him
|
| Then shriveled to let those bird-dogs rage through
|
| F-fuck is me?
|
| F-fuck is you, f-fuck is you, now
|
| Girlfriend
|
| Don’t feel like a girlfriend
|
| But lover
|
| Damn, I’d be your lover
|
| Girlfriend
|
| Don’t feel like a girlfriend
|
| But lover
|
| Damn, I’d be your lover
|
| Chris, I don’t know why you trippin'
|
| Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| (You got to keep on rollin' girl
|
| Keep rollin', rollin')
|
| (B-b-b-baby) Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| (B-b-b-baby) Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| (B-b-b-baby) Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| (Oh no) Touché, touché, touché, touché
|
| Yeah |