Up before the Flesh Parade... The pretty faces... The bedroom eyes... The Pouting lips. The longing thighs say "Come in for a night, you won't Regret it - but don't make any plans". She likes a man, but a hand is just As effective. A mutual need. No need to talk. No moonlit walks, no Sun-drenched beaches. Just a bed and just an alarm clock, says your time Is up. Go find another body (boy, girl) in the Flesh Parade. The line-up never changes. And, sure, nobody's perfect. Just good at Perfect crimes. We have the standard phrases; ask the time. How about The weather? Don't care about the spots. My only interest is your mind. (Got the time for a grind in the Flesh Parade?)