A Frosty Night in Gothenburg

This is a frosty night in Gothenburg

I hate the chime of your mobile phone

You hold it to your ear like a pillow of defeat

Hidden in your snake-like hair

That aches intensive care



If it's bad enough for me

It's bad enough for you

If it's bad enough for two

It's bad enough for three hundred



Out here on the perimeter there is a fence

Take me to your wizard fan for I'm feeling rather tense

I scarred your requiem with my black eyeliner brush

Your dark eyes piercing

Like huge messianic temples



If it's bad enough for you

It's bad enough for me

If it's bad enough for two

It's bad enough for three hundred

Hundred