On the radar
Are the thoughts I've left behind
Can I cleanse them?
Or will they return?
One familiar, everlasting
What if I showered in antiseptic?
On the radar
Is a rancor
And a recourse
From the thoughts
I've left behind
And they feel nice
And I look nice
And I smell nice
Would you have another choice?
On the radar
Would your love be everlasting?
If I was privy to the clock tick
Or I feigned something tragic
What if I dressed in pure elastic?
For the love that it lost
And the time that it cost
I feel fine
When I look nice
And I smell nice
And it feels
Would you have another choice?
On the radar