He want a soft girl with a hard body,
He want a pretty face with a blind eye.
He want a sharp tongue with a sloppy mouth, when he finds a good thing
he want a photocopy.
He want a clean hand covered in sticky stuff,
He want empires plural and
Rome just ain’t enough,
he want a hot fire,
he stands beneath the pyre,
he breathe the smoke with blistered lips-
he don’t feel a thing,
never been higher.
He want a fair exchange
cos he works hard for his money,
he want dominion over truth
and he ain’t being funny.
He want a quiet hologram
of a dangerous road,
He want the weight of the world
on easy mode,
He want a harvest with no seeds to sow
want a paycheck with no work to show.