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Song title: Rufus Wainwright - A Bit Of You

Edit By: 216.73.217.165

A bit of you the only drug I must abuse
A bit of you is the only substance I cannot refuse
When I walk on spring
Beneath the stench a bit of you is all I smell
Upon the shelves a bit of you I ask they sell?
When I walk on spring

Cause there aint no style
No there aint no style
Cause there aint no style
And in fact there is just one other problem
You live up in harlem

Of course I had no knowledge of this at the time
That came aprs july on the upper west side
Waiting for the fall
When from the battery on up to your front door
From mother ship the rocket launching twister whores
Would blow up it all

Cause there aint no style...
And in fact there is just one other problem
I would have spared harlem

Affections sent, straight to chekov, say you need me
Dont you need me, wait I thought were on broadway
No, my daddy said so: still outside of moscow

And so the days creep up to my big final show
And not a word from you, an hour I must blow
So I walk and see
Upon the streets a faded island, press on eyes
A big old pool of yous, zillions I realize
And just one of me

Cause there aint no style...
Youve infected harlem
Guess I wont be waiting several hours
Before nightfall for that a train,
Just the hiss of the dumes band play.

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