Texty:
Gentle Giant Acquiring The Taste

There's a cat prowling through the streets at night And she's black and her eyes are burning yellow fierce and bright The lights are darkened; Senses

How can I laugh or cry When my mind is sorely torn? Badabec had to die Fair Pantagruel is born Shall I weep, yes, for why? Then laugh and show my scorn

The room and street are known only to me and a few I won't tell nobody A place to meet where no-one can tell you what to do I won't tell nobody Here,

comfort and keep Keep all their people and places there Never to be seen again, never to be loved and their last embrace -- And the kiss has a salt bitter taste