Frenchy, I'm faking,

Been longing to stir you up,

Changing looks slightly like back in the '90s,

Far and away whistle delayed delights.


The prospect of lightning was ever so frightening,

I said youre kisses are nice,

But I'm looking for hills to roll,

Down with abandon and no understanding.


I borrowed your suitcase and filled it with pearls and gold,

You let me down lightly,

I killed you politely