Back In 1998

Russian spy in the black of night Black boots, almost hip high You and I with the moonrise Just love you to my surprise World is spinning clounter clockwise Blood red lips they do imply In the end we both will die Waiting for your burner call You’re smoking euro menthols My heart melts with compliments So I crumble defenseless Where are the documents? Photographs, intelligence? Stab me with your red pen I am living in pretend Back in 1998 Broken spy under a darken sky Massaging your silken thighs I’m in jet mascara disguise Go down, look into my eyes Defect and you’ll be mine Can’t resist no matter how I try In the end we both will die Waiting for your burner call You’re smoking euro menthols Midnight locks, elven frame Agent, what’s your endgame? Classified Autumn weekend Telegram, apprehend But, oh no, it’s not the end For you and I Back in 1998 Back in 1998