slave trade
thompson twins
sophisticated slave trade rhythmically admired
he's in love with a velvet glove
he's got that same old feeling
pleasure is a means to the end
physical encounters can offend
drinking like a fish out of water high and dry
when there's no tomorrow he doesn't even try
don't you touch the flesh
he's never going to get near the heart
he can poke but it won't get him closer
across the threshold he feels his nostrils flare
the stifling perfume is so thick in there
sophisticated slave trade rhythmically admired
he's in love with a velvet glove
he's got a sort of feeling