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Some kinda love |
|
Margarita told Tom |
|
between thought and expression lies a lifetime |
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situations arise because of the weather |
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and no kinds of love |
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are better than others |
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|
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Some kinds of love |
|
Margarita told Tom |
|
like a dirty French novel |
|
combines the absurd with the vulgar |
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and some kinds of love |
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the possibilities are endless |
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and for me to miss one |
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would seem to be groundless |
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|
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I heard what you said |
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Margarita heard Tom |
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and of course you're a bore |
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but in that you're not charmless |
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'cause a bore is a straight line |
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that finds a wealth in division |
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and some kinds of love |
|
are mistaken for visionary |
|
|
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Put jelly on your shoulder |
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let us do what you fear most |
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that from which you recoil |
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but which still makes your eyes moist |
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|
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Put jelly on your shoulder baby |
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lie down upon the carpet |
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between thought and expression |
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let us now kiss the culprit |
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|
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I don't know just what it's all about |
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but put on your red pajamas and find out |
