Hips of the Year - MIST

Honey, take your lips of the gear

We’ve got to slow down, the border’s too near

Your crying makes me weak

Your constant dying is a mean mean streak

Your beauty ain’t free

Slim waist-line, the hips of the year

You’re far too fine to be criticized, my dear

Body body

Massage for the blind

You’re the devil dressed as the queen of design

Your beauty ain’t free

Do you know you’ve got problems to solve

Loads, heavy loads

Or would you rather be eaten by wolves

Wolves in sheep clothes

I love you, but I’m your enemy

You raise your army to terrorize me

And my white flag is blinding your handsome eyes

Can I ever stop waving

Waving goodbye