The lion meets with the greasy man, for coffee every morning on platform 4, an unlikely match, she
Gold and glorious. And he's greasy and sleazy like a Parisian from the movies, desperately in need
Of a haircut and general spruce up. And i'm flummoxed more than jealous, honestly. Legs crossed
Seaweed dangle, limp wristed, oh so nonchalant in your flannel and i'm flummoxed. The Lion, bold
As brass towers over shabby cheap shoes and suit, as she hangs on his every word, for f*ck sake
Have a wash mate you're killing me, your killing me."