St. Pete, St. Julie

Chiliguaro , lambada and marmalade taste,
I feel you to death. So that's why I'm dead.
I'm never in love and so am never in grace
There's nobody here to come grab my hand.
Oh, I pray and my prayer is tearful and stupid
Havana club, nachos, my homie's too wasted
Ain't no one for me just to play it like Cupid
Not even an ugly one for replacement
Am to pm, I'm all too good to be faker
my skin is almost blue due to Chet Baker
And I'm dancing the sorrow away and I pray
in front of the church souvenirs made o' clay
Yay
Looney Tunes, my shit. Days are grey like Bax Bunny
Im somebody's Lola I guess. Or someone's nigro nanny.
Oh, dear saints, sent me a single day of a true love
Butterflies are cremated in my stomach, toss 'em up above
I'm fine laking some fancy stuff like clothe and jewelry
St.Pete, St.Julie,
Don't let me die like a withered plant
I'm sick of that
Well, I gotta go
Thanks for a call