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I descend from this loneliness I shed things On a chalk floor There are mere foolish daydreams To torture me Cropped photographs In newspaper journals Frequently! I'm going to throw you In a cloth to keep confetti I'm going to throw you In a cloth to keep confetti I shoot cannonballs It's useless, because there is A grain-vizier There are so many old violets Without a hummingbird Wanted to use, who knows A straitjacket Or of venus But I will not enjoy ourselves Just a cigarette I will not kiss you Spending my lipstick now I get a truck on the canvas I go to the knocker again I've always been chained On your heel My twenty years of boy That's over, baby! Freud explains I will not get dirty Just smoking a cigarette I will not kiss you Spending my lipstick on the confetti cloth My carnival is over And that explains why sex Is a popular subject At the most, I'm leaving! No, I'm leaving! No, I'm leaving! No more!