She washed a kitten and had today no answer yet Regards for people who play always in dismay Mack sleeve on a coat I believe, but she wouldn't say Torn cup, fly up above Some paper lie and a tire-track of love Would you hit me please Got a liver disease No waiting for the telephone I walked on frozen banter and end of time Regards from the people who stare at me and realign Tapped beams coming into the seams in this coat of mine Way up, from up above Torn paper lines and a tire-track of love Would you hit me please Got a liver disease And wait for the telephone