DESCRIPTION:
Don't ask me

In the little lane she, in the little lane she stops, mirrors her thoughts in a barber shop,
Hears a little song, whistled while cut, takes it right on, takes it while drinking from paper cups,
Thinks the people rely on, that they live their live right but --

Don't ask me things, I wont think on, they've all been written in my favourite song.
Don't ask me things, I wont think on, they've all been written in my favourite song.

In the little lane he, in the little lane he naps, takes naps right on while the whistle's done,
It's a little song, of suffer and cuts,
He takes it right on, takes it while dreaming of (censored) and (censored)
Thinks the people rely on, that they live their live right but --