Gold Cup / Plastic Sole

Gold cup, plastic sole
What toxic rot and tragedy
Bubbles in your factory alone
Gold cup, plastic sole
I, a lowly chorus
Lionising the Ramones
But now even little Pan here's getting old
Fill my plastic sole

Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winters fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
If you could melt my sole

A water sprite of desert skin
A Cheshire Cat, an open door, a hot northern wind
A perfect plum rolling six feet ’pon dusty road
Rolling to my plastic sole
The goats' bells twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, up thе glen
They pirouettе as waters very very slow friend
And faintly sing the stones
Fill my plastic sole
Sing my plastic sole

Gold cup, plastic sole
The olive tree laps the Steppe as winters fingers fold
Fill my cup, melt my sole
You could melt my sole