Your bin bag is filled with razors
Rusted, snapped or blunt
Shag and scruff, you got too much
But that don't mean you're not cut out for love
Chewing gum in your barrel
Swallows up your keys
Windows shut, the pane won't budge
But that don't mean you're not cut out for love
Gray sheds are for storage
They're no place to get snug
Why sniff 'round for tunnels
That you've already dug?
Barbers stop to shake your hand
When you're on the street
Point you to the corner clubs
But you decline 'cause you're cut out for love
Love
Love
Love
Love