ow that a rose is the cancer I knowBlack in the night she come asking for moreSummer a squall and the banshee she moansCome measure this pleasure without your good senseItâs almost never what you may want to have guessedNo you youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre goodAstor the moon she rests her face on the floorShe came in through the windowNow that sheâs out she rolls her way to the doorShe got farther than we knowInto the light a dresser spills out a drawerJust like a casinoWeâve test the pressure of the water and airItâs almost better now youâre with her in thereNo you youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre good youâre goodThis I swear youâre the only one Iâd risk my fortune and heir forIf youâre good to meWhen I compare all my lonliness to chance of what may beI see Iâm a fool to care