Stella - Next is already ex

Oh yes, me in the bakery or some other slums Around us in green neon the sound resounding and dumb One aisle in the middle where perspirations gather And sweat makes one fifty percent of the weather But not at once, woman, not tonight The dress hangs down low As we are out of sight The boys give out address, the vendor sends a pound I stare at the terribly dirty ground I'd sit and watch, my hands full of mess My body extracted from the thinking process So this is what I call my lovely next As if I didn't know that next is already ex So come on, woman, tonight tonight It's so funny an impatience that makes mine Starving of velocity I burst with each atom What public never knew but fathomed Stay away from the pool, now the coffee takes over I'd never swap luck for the hope on the clover Success makes me mad as it touches and shoves me Success I had wanted is mere salt in my coffee