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Adam Ant/
Marco Pirronilong ago in London towna man called Ant sat deeply sighinghe was wonderingwhich side of the fence he was onprick up your ears...time went by and soonthe one was five young hombresburning firethey were in no doubtwhich side of the fence they were onprick up your ears (mag-nificent five)...he who writes in blooddoesn't want to be readhe must be learned by hearthe's got to be learned by heartthey believed in sex and looking goodwith their own brand of musicthey weren't panderingso which side of the fenceare you on?
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