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