Texty: Cracker. The Golden Age. Dixie Babylon.

We went down to the old part of town
By the stinking canal and the cotton mill
Under a ghetto palm with her bicycle shorts on
With a gesture she said to me

I really must confess
I'd like to get undressed with you
And though the thought had never really crossed my mind
Oh, but that was a lie, so we went along

We went out under the turning leaves
The fetid earth was damp and cool
Autumn's feeble light on her salty neck
All innocence, it was lost

I really must confess
I'm feeling quite distressed, my stars are always crossed
And I have always taken more than I have given back
And as a matter of fact, I've given nothing up