AINT
You take your white finger
Sota
You take your white finger
Slide the nail under the top and bottom buttons of
My blazer
Relax the fraying wool, slacken ties and I'm
Not to look at you in the shoe
But the eyes
Find the eyes
Find me and follow me through corridors, refectories and files
You must follow, leave this academic factory
You will find me in the matinée, the dark of the matinée
It's better in the matinée, the dark of the matinée is mine
Yes, it's mine