jens lekman - f-word lyrics
would you stand up for this kind of beauty?
cause this kind of beauty won’t stand up for you.
it won’t lift a finger
for some lazy dreamer.
here it comes the average dirty word,
pardon my french
but i’m sitting on an park bench,
watching yearning cats
milk-fed little brats.
and they say:
love won’t pick
the slanted or the slick
or the lovesick,
and i’m lovesick.
so i say
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs.
summer evening,
cats are screaming
for love.
is summer evening,
the cats screaming
for love.
so i say
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs
can’t you feel the stench?
f-word, f-word
pardon my french
but it’s bs, bs.
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