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With their cardboard hands by their sides, |
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Here's a naked man and lady |
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And they're yours to cut out and keep |
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So you can dress them up maybe |
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They don't know just who they are, or who they're supposed to be |
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You can make them happy or sad |
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Or assume their identity |
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So here they are in the departure lounge |
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It's the 'gateway to the east' |
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She is just another mail-order bride |
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She doesn't know he's a kinky beast |
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So he gives her a picture of maradona and child |
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She wants to 'roll and rock' |
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As he spills his beer over her, bumps and he |
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Grinds, as he repeats 'bang-cock' |
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Chorus: |
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There must be something that is better than this |
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It starts with a slap and ends up with a kiss |
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Begins with you bawling and it ends up in tears |
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Oh my little one, take that chewing gum out of your ears |
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She might as well be in the jungle |
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She might as well be on the moon |
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He's away on a business trip, in dusseldorf, but she's becoming immune |
|
To the lack of glamour and danger in a west-german city today |
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The nearest she comes to the 'dynasty' he promised her |
|
Is a chinese takeaway |
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Chorus |
|
Though he only taught her three little words, it |
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Doesn't matter if they're dirty or clean |
|
He can only control what they look like |
|
He can never possess what they mean |
|
Now he wants to whisper in her ear |
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All the shrinking nothingness |
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But something always comes between them, |
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I wonder if you can guess |
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Chorus |
