On promenades where drunks propose to lonely arcade mannequinsWhere ceremonies pause at the jewellers shop displayFeigning casual silence in strained romantic interludesTill they commit themselves to the muted journey home
And the pool player rests on another cueLast nights hero picking up his duesA honeymoon gambled on a ricochetShe's staring at the brochures at the holidaysChalking up a name in your hometownStanding all your mates to another roundLaughing at the world till the barman wipes away the warm wet circles
The warm wet circles
I saw teenage girls like gaudy mothsA classroom's shabby butterfliesFlirt in the glow of stranded telephone boxes
Planning white lace weddings from smeared heartsAnd token proclamationsRolled from stolen lipsticks across the razored webs of glass
Sharing cigarettes with experienceWith her giggling jealous confidantesShe faithfully traces his nameWith quick bitten fingernails
Through the tears of condensationThat'll cry through the nightAs the glancing headlights of the last busKiss adolescence goodbye
In a warm wet circleLike a mothers kiss on your first broken heartA warm wet circleLike a bullet hole in Central ParkA warm wet circleAnd I'll always surrenderTo the warm wet circles
She nervously undressed in the dancing beams of the Fidra lighthouseGiving it all away before it's too lateShe'll let a lover's tongue move in a warm wet circleGiving it all away, showing no shameShe'll take a mother's kiss on her first broken heartA warm wet circleShe'll realise that she played her partIn a warm wet circle
