It would be a perfect day
In our backyard
Were it not for the whiff of bin
I wonder whose it is? Not ours
Which lives around the front
Perfuming our neighbour’s boudoir
Because they leave their window
Open
It would be a perfect day
In our backyard
Were it not for the whiff of bin
I wonder whose it is? Not ours
Which lives around the front
Perfuming our neighbour’s boudoir
Because they leave their window
Open