Lyric The Function Of The Orgasm

It s half past eight, and I m waiting
In a beautiful place
Anticipating everything we ll do
And all we ll say.
Till your father sees you again
Now I don t know just what you re doing
Is it me or him
That you re screwing?
But I don t care and you don t care
When you re here

Now the storm is here
I see you running
Your face full of tears.
So red and burning
And I can t work out
How you spend
Another day with him

Just say the word
You know I ll do it
I m waiting for you
Just let me do it
And we can run away to another place.
Less full of fear.