It’s Monday, it’s morning and she can’t stop
To think about next weekend
Honey, get out of the bed, the clock
The time is always running, turning into sand
Put your porn style pants and go ahead!
Always on the edge, as a chronic disease
You start to live at midnight, at 3 you’re dead
She’s pretty tied up and I’m not so pleased
Clean up your fingers
Clean up your mind
Try not to linger
Thinking you’re doing fine
Get out of the city
Turn off the lights before you leave
Make it up, get pretty
You’ll get the guilt for get this easy
Last Friday she said it was time to break
To get a new life and find someone who cares
To feel the true wind with no need to fake
A hundred miles per hour with some pain to share
A stopped heart and a sweet desire
She was just trying something she’s never had
And all her love, now it’s a reason to hate
Never forget what your father said!
Clean up your fingers
Clean up your mind
Try not to linger
Thinking you’re doing fine
Get out of the city
Turn off the lights before you leave
Make it up, get pretty
You’ll get the guilt for get this easy