Gasp. Curse. Whimper. Thousands of wordless exhalations. Squeals. Scrowls. After months of speculation...
Is this a hoax? Is this a collective mid-life crisis waiting to happen? Is this the last chance to see the last truly great pop group this country [UK] ever produced? Is it time to decide who's side you're on [again]? Is this messing with your head?
These and many more questions may be found at PulpPeople. But, as they urge, all you really have to ask yourself is:
DO YOU REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME??
I do. And what an introduction.
All the stuff they tell you about in the movies,
but this isn't chocolate boxes and roses.
It's dirtier than that,
like some small animal that only comes out at night.
And I see flashes of the shape of your breasts,
and the curve of your belly,
and I may have to sit down and catch my breath.
Oh. What is this feeling called love.
Why me, why you, why here.
And why now.
It doesn't make no sense no.
It's not convenient no.
It doesn't fit my plans,
but I got that taste in my mouth again oh.
F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A. double L.E.D. L.O.V.E.
What is this thing that is happening to me
source my darling christine, super researcher who knows how to brighten any day.