French Kicks The 88 lyrics

Biding my time, 88 style
Be sure that I'm head in my hands
Me and this man who coughed in his mess
And picked at his skin with illicit pills

I wanted all that I had feeling
What can we do, the prince machine?

Sipping my mug shot, it's into your pocket
Why can't we take that and phone up to me, girl

I hate the 88, I hate the 88

Out in no time, that's what they said

The central was down again and again
And such a day they had to ruin
I've been so loved in after you

I've had nothing since last evening
And if you know me, I know you'll let me go

I hate the 88, I hate the 88
I hate the 88, I hate the 88

I want to know when to follow