Mad Mission


Chapter 2


Whistling out loud, Schuldig made his way to the computer room, eager to get the scheduled teleconference out of the way. He had more important things to focus on. Once this latest mission was completed, he should have some free time to do just that. Reaching his destination, he was surprised to find Crawford waiting for him. "What’s up, Bradley?" Ah, how he loved ruffling the uptight prick’s feathers.

"There is no need for you to communicate with our little revolutionaries again. They’ll all be dead in a matter of minutes." Schuldig gave the man a curious look, and was soon rewarded with more information. "Weiß is taking care of them as we speak. Once more they are four."

"Verdammt." He let out a string of curses, trying to rein in the impulse to destroy something. Fuck. The damned old fools had kept him too busy the past couple of months for him to pay Aya a visit, and now the man had gone and rejoined his old team. That just made getting what he wanted all the more difficult.

"Mastermind." Crawford kept repeating his code name until he stopped swearing and looked at the American. "We need the team back together, if my vision is to come true. Keep that in mind when you play with your ‘kleiner Stern’ next."

For once Schuldig was speechless, trying to process the fact that Bradley knew about what he was up to with Fujimiya. Although he shouldn’t be surprised, the man was a precog after all. It was just that in the past few years he’d been pursuing Aya, Oracle hadn’t said a word, except at the very beginning. Then he felt furious as a particular thought occurred to him. "You knew about it the whole time, didn’t you? Especially our last meeting, which is why you interrupted things on purpose. Am I correct?" Crawford nodded his head, and Schuldig fought hard to suppress the urge to strike the man. "Why the sudden change then?"

"Because now the time is right." Crawford started for the door, tossing one last comment over his Armani-clad shoulder. "Though it’ll be quite a fun workout for you."

Wishing more than anything he could read the American’s mind, he started cursing again. Schuldig whapped the computer monitor few times, temper getting the best of him until he calmed down by thinking of all the things he wanted to do to Aya. A fun workout, hm? It sounded like him winning over the Japanese man would be a bit of a challenge. And he just loved challenges, didn’t he? Especially one that would be so rewarding if he was successful. His little star hadn’t let him down yet.


Standing in the shadowed entrance of a closed music store, Schuldig gazed across the street, watching and waiting. As he had expected, Balinese left a little before eight o’clock, obviously on his way to a date. A little mental urging, and Bombay and Siberian were the next to go, the kitties suddenly heading to a movie festival. He felt a smile creep across his face as he watched the assassins depart, leaving him free to do what he had been dreaming of for the longest time. Strolling across the street, he made his way to the back of the Koneko where, after spending a few minutes picking the locks, he went inside.

Ah, Weiß’s humble abode. He glanced around, looking for hints of Aya’s personality. Besides the neatness of the place, there was nothing to suggest that the man resided in the house. Shaking his head, Schuldig made his way upstairs, searching out one bedroom in particular. He went to the third door on the right, knowing it was the correct one from the glimpses inside of Aya’s head. Telepathy sure came in handy at times, especially like tonight. Quietly moving about the small room, he poked about in drawers and on the bookshelves, giving him something to do as he waited. It had been almost three months since he’d seen the man, he wanted to check and see how the time away from Kritiker had impacted Aya, if at all. Soon growing bored though, Schuldig turned out the light and relaxed back on the bed, grimacing a bit as he tried to get comfortable on the hard surface. Seemed that someone had to introduce Fujimiya to the concept of feather beds.

So here he was, waiting for the stubborn fool to finish his errands and return home, to see if he would keep his promise to not let his actions affect their relationship. Now that was on odd little word. Relationship. It implied that they were friends, and here he was hoping they would be lovers. What they really should be to each other was murderer and victim.

But for some reason, on that day years ago, he hadn’t been able to kill the boy. Maybe it had been the eyes, filled with a pain he would never understand, or the delicious thoughts in his head, that had blocked out everything else. Maybe, just maybe, the young Fujimiya had reminded him of himself, as improbable as it sounded. But the boy had survived, and would now have to live with the consequences and the guilt. With the sin. Schuldig had decided to allow him to do this, interested in seeing what the young man did. And he had been stunned by the transformation, from the shy, loving boy to a cold assassin. But an ember of that young boy still burned — the spark of love and devotion, the thing that made it possible for Fujimiya to sacrifice everything for a corpse too stupid to die. Like a bright star. His little star.

Thinking of what exactly he wanted to do to the smaller redhead, Schuldig let his mind wander. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar presence draw close that he snapped out of the reverie, as Fujimiya pulled into the garage. He rolled onto his side so he faced the door, waiting for the man to come up to the bedroom. Once more smiling, he easily read Aya’s thoughts, felt his exhaustion and sense of relief at having the house to himself. All he was planning on doing was taking a shower and reading a book for a couple of hours before going to bed. Poor boy was in for quite a shock, now wasn’t he?

Schuldig sensed the man make his way up the stairs, and down the hall. Then Aya stopped in front of the door. Amazing. Somehow he knew that there was someone in his room. The door was pushed open, Aya flicking on the light switch as he dove for the floor, rolling over to where the sword rested. Blinking his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light, Schuldig’s sight cleared just in time to catch the incredulous expression on the other man’s face, noting the way the katana shook in the pale grip. "Guten Abend, kleiner Stern."

"Schuldig? What the hell are you doing here?" For a moment Aya glanced about wildly, katana once more steady in his grip.

"If you’re looking for Schwarz, they’re not here. I left them at home tonight, felt it was time we had another little talk."

Slowly backing over to the door, a pair of violet eyes glared at him as he lounged on the bed. "Why are you here, Schuldig? To play more games? Get out. Get out now."

Now this wasn’t how he’d thought their meeting would go. Schuldig frowned as he sat up. <I told you, I’m here to have a nice chat. You haven’t come to the bar lately, so I came to you.>

Aya shook his head, trying to dislodge the insinuating voice inside of it. "Why should I have gone to the bar? I haven’t heard from you in months, not after you and your friends tried to kill Weiß. I’m serious Schu, leave now."

<That was just Farfie and I, and all we were after was a little bit of fun. Not that it matte- shit! Stop!> Schuldig just managed to jump off of the bed before the sharp blade swept through where he had been. Dammit, looked as if a certain homicidal swordsman no longer thought of him as a friend. Regaining his feet, he twisted aside to avoid a swift thrust, dancing out of the way. "Really, mein kleiner Stern, we need to work on your anger issues some more." He hissed as the katana cut through his shirt and jacket, not to mention the skin underneath. "Stop this. Now."

Aya just kept coming at him, a fucking gorgeous angel of retribution or some shit like that, intent on skewering him with that overgrown knife. All he sensed from the man’s mind was anger and hate, almost overwhelming a small hint of regret. Feinting to the right, Schuldig finally got underneath Aya’s guard, knocking him onto the bed. Making sure he landed on top, and that the katana was sent flying across the room, he set about repairing whatever it was that had gone wrong.

A quick scan revealed the problem. It seemed that with Takatori dead, there wasn’t a focus for the Japanese man’s hate anymore. Aya’s anger and frustration at having gained his revenge and nothing else, no redemption or Aya-chan being miraculously restored to life, had worn away at the blocks he’d placed on the man’s emotions. The hate and fury, no longer checked, once more had been associated with him. Wonderful.

Ignoring the curses the struggling form beneath him was spewing out, Schuldig rebuilt those blocks. When Aya started to still under the assault, he stroked a hand through crimson strands. <You don’t hate me, remember? Maybe you’re a little upset over our last couple of encounters, but they don’t matter now. Think back to the promise you made me. I kept my end, Takatori died on your sword. Now keep yours.> He could sense the pale man’s confusion, as the past couple of minutes were wiped from his mind and a new reality substituted. Oh, it would be so fucking easy to twist a thing here and there, to make sure that Aya would love him when he came to. But that would be the equivalent of hiring a prostitute. That wasn’t what he wanted. Which was why even though he’d longed for the man to return his feelings these past couple of years, he hadn’t pushed things beyond containing Fujimiya’s hate and suspicions. Schuldig wanted things to be the way they were in the bar a couple months ago. He wanted Aya to honestly want him back.

Moving off the slender body beneath him with a tinge of regret, Schuldig pulled Aya to his feet, straightened out their clothes. He crossed the room to pick up the katana, sheathed it and placed it in a pale hand. In his star’s mind the man had come home and been surprised to find someone in his room. He’d acted accordingly, going for his weapon until he had noticed it was his friend Schu waiting for him. Schuldig settled himself back on the bed, and let go of his mental hold on Aya. Violet eyes blinked at him, trying to make sense of the scene before them. "Schu, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Wanted to have a little chat. You haven’t been back to the bar for a while, so I thought I’d come here to see you. Why, aren’t you happy to find me here?"

Aya let the hand holding his katana drop down to his side, as he ran the other through his hair. "Last time we saw each other, you and your teammate Farfarello were doing your best to kill Weiß."

"Ah, Farfie and I were just out to have a little fun." Sitting up on the bed, he fixed his eyes on the confused man. <Remember your promise, not to hold what happened back then against me. After all, I kept mine.>

"I know you did, Schu. But it’s not wise for you to be here like this. Let’s go to the bar, it would be a bad thing if my teammates found you here. They’ll kill you."

Smiling happily, knowing that one battle had been won, Schuldig patted the mattress beside him. "They won’t ever know that I’m here. The Penner is out seducing some poor woman he’ll leave heartbroken in the morning, and der Kind are out watching a Star Wars marathon. They won’t be back for hours to come. So it’s just the two of us, just like old times. Now come over here and have a drink." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a sizable flask, waving it in the air.

For a moment Fujimiya merely stared at him, then turned around to lock the door and turn out the overhead light. Moonlight illuminated the room enough that Schuldig could follow him with his eyes, as the slender man put his sword back on the stand and took off his jacket, then walked over to the bed. Aya switched on the lamp beside it and sat down on his right, leaning back against the headboard. "What are we drinking to?"

"How about Takatori’s death?" For a moment the younger man’s face twisted, as in a grimace, but he swiftly took the offered flask and tossed it back. Sputtering a bit as he swallowed, Aya shook his head and grimaced in earnest. "What the hell is this?"

Pausing to take a swig himself, he finally replied, "Potcheen. An Irish potable. Thank Farfie for turning me on to it. Has a nice kick to it, doesn’t it?" From the look on Aya’s face, ‘kick’ wasn’t the proper word for it. He pressed the flask back into the man’s hand, watching as he took another taste. The stuff was rather potent, and with a bit of luck would loosen Aya up a little. Schuldig didn’t want him thinking too clearly this evening.

After a moment the smaller man broke the silence. "Something tells me that it wouldn’t be a very good idea to ask what you’ve been up to the past few months. So what do we talk about?" Schuldig smiled at the comment as he passed the flask back to Aya. Ah, how he’d missed this. He’d always enjoyed Aya’s presence, his caustic and brilliant mind. It was in part what had kept him haunting the man all this time.

Shrugging his shoulders, he bought some time by taking a long draught of liquor. As soon as he was done he once more handed the container over to Aya, watching him as he drank. "No, it wouldn’t be a very good idea to talk about that. Let’s just say I’ve been very busy lately, or I would have paid you a visit before now." The pale man closed his eyes for a moment as he ran a pink tongue over the flask’s neck, making Schuldig want to moan. When those amethyst orbs opened, Aya had accepted whatever mayhem he’d created the past several weeks and was ready to move off of the topic. He could tell this by skimming the man’s mind. This was another thing that he loved about Aya, here was a person who knew the worst of his sins; he would never have to hide his true self from Fujimiya. He’d never participated in any relationship like this before. Hell, he never really had ever participated in a relationship before. Esset had kept him cut off from people, because of his talent, and had dictated who he would work and live with. To let someone, not even one of his teammates but technically an enemy, so close, it was an exhilarating rush. That it was someone that he himself had chosen made the fact even sweeter.

Aya passed the alcohol back to him. "I was pretty busy myself."

"I know." Schuldig snorted. "Construction work? You couldn’t find a better job than that, kleiner Stern?"

That earned him a potent, if slightly unfocused, scowl. "It’s not like I had many choices. Japan’s in a recession, if you remember. It’s hard for a college graduate to get a job, let alone an assassin with only a high school diploma to his credit. Besides, it paid well."

"But not enough as killing." Aya flinched slightly, but nodded his head. For a moment Schuldig debated mentioning the man’s sister, but decided not to. Most likely it would ruin the mood, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Aya was finally relaxing in his presence, feeling a sense of affection and the slightest bit of lust for him. Oh, that was so luscious to sense. So close, he was so close to what he’d dreamed about for so long. Schuldig waved the potcheen at Aya, eyebrow raised in invitation.

"I…. don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve had enough, that stuff’s stronger than I’m used to." The purple eyes drifted shut as Aya slumped back into the pillows. The room was silent for several minutes, and he just gazed at his friend, drinking in the sight of the lovely man. God the man was beautiful, body and mind. He wanted him so much. Shifting about on the bed, he settled next to Aya. "Why are you really here, Schu? For someone so interested in talking you’ve been awfully quiet." Ah, his little star wasn’t as out of it as he had hoped.

Twisting around, Schuldig rested on his side, looking down on the drunk man. Figuring that he was never going to get what he wanted if all he did was sit here, he reached out to brush back the long bangs covering a pale face, combing his fingers through the silky hair. Aya tensed for a moment at the touch, then turned his head into the caress, lids slowly opening. Leaning over some more, Schuldig bridged the distant between them, until their faces were centimeters apart. "I’m here to finish that last discussion of ours." He thrilled at the way the smaller man shivered at the feel of his breath on Aya’s face. Moving in to close the gap, he wasn’t happy when a hand lifted to stop him, pressing against his chest.

"I thought we agreed it was a mistake," Fujimiya whispered, violet eyes never leaving his mouth.

<No, we agreed that I would prove to you that it wasn’t.> Schuldig swiped his tongue over his lips, watching as amethyst orbs followed the motion. He tried moving closer again, but that hand wouldn’t budge. <You want this too, I can feel it. Don’t you remember how it was that night?> He made the man’s mind flash back to that evening, recalling the desire and need that had been there.

Aya shook his head, his confusion and desire so deliciously frustrating. "How can we fight each other if we do this? It’s not worth it for a one-night stand, Schu. That would hurt too much." There was a hint of fear added to the mix now, strong enough to force Schuldig to shift back slightly. He recognized in part what was the problem, and set about dismantling that obstacle. It appeared that he’d been a bit too diligent in keeping people away from Aya, including Weiß. Poor little star, so inexperienced in matters of passion and sex. Time for a crash course, as Bradley might say.

Stroking his hand through crimson strands, he let his need wash through the bewildered man. The best way to deal with a skittish virgin was to give them no time to dwell on the fear. He wanted Aya too badly to be denied tonight, to spend wasteful time on reassurances. He knew why the man kept everyone at arm’s length, so afraid of being hurt yet again. That was in part why Aya had let him get close, oddly enough. Schuldig was a known quantity, who couldn’t harm him any more than he already had. First an enemy, then a sort-of friend, and now he’d be a lover. There was no other conclusion he would allow.

Having spent three years inside Fujimiya’s head, he put that well-earned knowledge to use to achieve his goal. <This isn’t just a one-time thing, Herzchen.> It wasn’t, honestly. Schuldig always held on tight to the few things he truly wanted, and had been able to claim. The swordsman would be one of them. <Believe me on that. Want as much of you as I can get, Esset and Kritiker be damned. We’ll manage, we’ve always managed before. Aren’t you tired of being alone? Isn’t this worth the risk, to feel something other than self hate and anger? To prove that there is a part of you that is still alive? > Using his power, Schuldig traced a line of pleasure down a damp temple with his fingers, along a high cheekbone and on, past a slender neck. Aya shivered at the touch, and let his hand fall.

That was all the opening he needed. Schuldig moved in, claiming the man’s mouth, delving in deep, making him focus on what it was doing to him. When Aya started to kiss him back he shifted on top of the slender man, clever tongue stifling any complaint. Projecting his desire as powerfully as he could, he felt the stiff form relax, two arms coming up to hold him close. Aya never stood a chance, as confused and inebriated as he was. His let his talent flow unchecked, no doubt the whole block was finding themselves to be a bit on the amorous side right now, but that didn’t matter, as long as the fear faded away. As long as Aya was focused solely on the present, and not the future and all its repercussions.

He slid a hand down the man’s chest, rubbing a nipple through the shirt’s material, until it peaked from the friction. Then his touch drifted downward to a slender waist, grasping the shirt and yanking it out of the pants. Shifting to the side slightly, he worked the buttons of the white top open, skimming his fingers over the pale chest and abdomen. Aya moaned at the touch, tossing his head aside, so Schuldig moved his mouth to the smaller man’s neck, licking and nipping, rasping his cheek along the smooth skin. He pulled back long enough to rip off his jacket and shirt, smiling as Aya mewled and grabbed at him, pulling him back down as he reached into a pocket for a small tube. Settling back on the swordsman, Schuldig returned his attention to that slim neck, sucking and biting when he reached skin that would normally be covered by clothes. His star gasped at the attack, digging fingers into his shoulders, breaking skin as the nails pressed deep. Hissing in pain, he pulled one of the hands free, pausing to lick his blood off of the white fingers. He tried to rein his power in, to calm Aya down, but as he felt the apprehension and denial grow, he let go of his talent once again. Right now he needed to consummate this, present it as a fait accompli to Aya, and do whatever he had to to make it right later.

Grinding his hips down as his hands stroked and tweaked, his mouth busy tasting all the pale skin it could reach, Schuldig felt his control slip. Now, this was going to happen right now. Fumbling at Aya’s jeans, he actually tore off the button, then yanked the zipper down. Next came the pants themselves, ripped off the longs legs along with the boxers, and violently thrown across the room. Cursing with impatience, Schuldig worked at his own trousers, hampered by shaking hands and a raging erection that stretched the material tight. Once he had them open and removed he pounced back on the other redhead, pulling the man’s legs apart as he nestled between them, hands searching out the tube he’d dropped on the bed minutes before. When he found it he popped it open, smearing some lube on a few fingers as he once again devoured Aya’s mouth, needing that taste once again.

Aya gasped at the finger pressing into him, thrashing on the bed, part of him trying to escape it while Schuldig’s passion had him pressing back against the digit. For a second Schuldig thought his lover would actually push through the desire and regain his senses, but the moment passed. As much as he may deny it later, Fujimiya had wanted this, even dreamed about it a time or two. The passion had been long buried, but Schuldig had wormed his way past the shields over the past couple of years, insidiously making the man trust him and yearn for his presence. He was the one person who could touch such a monster and not be repulsed, being one himself. Startled a bit at the thought he’d just uncovered, he shoved another finger in, wanting to distract both Aya and himself. No more thinking right now, it wouldn’t do any good to face bitter truths.

Flicking his fingers deep inside of the pale man, Schuldig let out a groan as he brushed against that sweet spot, filling both of them with pleasure. That was it, he couldn’t wait anymore. Filling his palm with some lube and then pumping his shaft a couple of times, he settled back on top of Aya and shoved his way in. The swordsman let out a yell of pain, body jerking at the assault, making him moan at the incredibly tight muscles clenching around his shaft. Oh, this was just too fucking unbelievable. His feelings overwhelmed Aya’s, making the pain fade away, lost in the pleasure. Tilting the man’s hips, both of them let out a shout as that spot was hit once more, sending them off in a frenzy. Schuldig pounded into his lover’s body, dimly aware of the nails once more digging into his back, the sting of sweat in the scratches, a slight echo of the ache his brutal thrusts were raising in Aya beneath the pleasure. Hoarsely grunting out the man’s name, he felt the tremors build in his body, driving closer to the edge with every thrust, making him more frantic by the moment. Determined to drag Aya along with him, he grabbed the redhead’s erection and started pumping. It was too much for the both of them, sending them crashing over the edge together, minds swamped by the resulting emotions. Drained and exhausted, Schuldig fell limp on top of the smaller man, reeling from the sense of satiation and bliss.

Remaining still for several minutes, mind and body too tired for anything, Schuldig was startled to find himself suddenly shoved to the side as Aya tried to get out of the bed, the man collapsing to the floor when his legs refused to cooperate. Shit. He forced his body up on his hands and knees, reaching out a hand to the Japanese man, trying to dredge up enough energy to put his talent to use.

Aya batted the hand away, his mind a torrent of guilt, anger, shame and confusion. Violet eyes glared back at him, filled with fury and hurt. "You fucking bastard! What did you do to me?" Aya was desperately trying to get his body to work, to crawl over to where his sword was.

"What you wanted, Herzchen, but were too afraid to admit." He once more dredged up memories of their last meeting, of the dreams Aya had had in the past couple months, reminiscent of the past few minutes, albeit a bit more gentle. Schuldig felt a spark of anger towards himself for how rough he’d been, now that he could think again.

The eyes only narrowed more. "If I wanted it so badly, why the liquor, the coercion? You promised me, you bastard, that you wouldn’t use your power on me. Get out, get the hell out and never come back. I’ll kill you if you do." The pale man started to scoot backwards, his mind filled with images of what his blade could do to Schuldig.

"Eigensinnig Trottel!" Schuldig lunged, grabbing the smaller man and yanking him back onto the bed, once more holding the struggling figure close. Wheezing at a blow to his throat, he pinned Aya to the bed. <All I did was project my desire. If you hadn’t wanted me, it never would have worked. You felt the same, but were too scared to act upon it. It would have just been more excuses from you. ‘We can’t, we’re enemies. ‘How can we fight if we go through with this?’ To hell with excuses. You’re mine now.> He used his power, banking certain emotions, blocking a few select memories. Fujimiya moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, trying to fight, but only able to resist for a couple of seconds.

Schuldig observed him for a few minutes, mind aching and body trembling from the stress of using his power so often that evening. He held his breath as violet eyes drifted open, clouded for a moment. "Schu, get off of me." He did so reluctantly, waiting to see if his tampering had worked. Aya sat up, wincing in pain as his abused body protested. Schuldig reached out a hand, ran it down a pale back, taking the hurt away. His lover started at the touch, shivering slightly, but didn’t draw away. "Aren’t you going to leave now? You got what you wanted, get dressed and leave."

Frowning slightly, wondering if he should have blocked more of the anger, adjusted more memories, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Aya. The man was now to believe that he had participated in the sex without the mental urging, was more tampering needed? "I told you, it wasn’t going to be a one time thing. Why should I skulk away, like that Penner Balinese?" He felt the tense body in his embrace relax. Ah, that was it, Aya had thought he’d lied earlier. "I’m not leaving until morning, and even then you’re going to have to kick me out of bed," he said, as he nuzzled a pale ear.

A warm rush of joy washed through him as Aya tilted his head to the side, humming softly as the lips shifted down his neck. "But, ah, my teammates will be back soon. Schu, they can’t find you here." Suddenly the crimson head fell forward, and Schuldig felt the despair pouring off of his lover. "What the hell are we thinking? We’re enemies, dammit. This will never work. Our teams are out for each other’s blood."

"It will work, we just have to be careful," he soothed, stroking his lover’s hair. "The both of us are too stubborn to let a little thing like that stand in out way. The same rules stand as before, we’ll fight each other as little as possible, and you will trust me. Who can stop us? We’ll be a modern day Bonnie and Clyde."

Aya snorted. "They died, Schu. Hail of bullets and all. Great image there, thank you very much."

Schuldig sighed and tried again. "Fine then, like Romeo and Juliet."

"Both suicides, poison and a knife. Any other doomed couples you want to compare us too?"

"Don’t be such an Arschloch, you know what I mean." He poked the younger man in the ribs. "I’ll figure it all out. They don’t call me Mastermind for nothing. Have a little faith, Herzchen."

"Herzchen? Do me a favor, Schuh, and stick with kleiner Stern." The pale man rested his head on Schuldig’s arm, sighing. Using his power to still Fujimiya’s doubts, he tightened his grip. He’d have to pay close attention to the man’s mind over the next few days, make sure his blocks held, but he’d manage to do what he came to do tonight. Aya was his. There would be no more thoughts of the swordsman leaving or killing him. It would be a bit tricky, what with their employers hell bent on destroying each other, but he’d always enjoyed a challenge. And he always got what he wanted.


In case anyone was wondering why the hell I called this fic ‘Mad Mission’, it’s because of a song I kept hearing as I was writing it. It has what I personally consider one of the best opening lines of any song. Thought that the lyrics fitted Schu pretty good, and in referring to Aya. Song is Patty Griffin’s:

Mad Mission

We were drinking like the Irish/ but we were drinking Scotch

Bartender turned on a movie/ everybody turned to watch

And every single eye was gleaming/ as he reached the final scene

Well, at least mine did/ here’s looking at you kid


It’s a mad mission/ under difficult conditions

Not everybody makes it/ to the loving cup

It’s a mad mission/ but I got the ambition

Mad, mad mission/ sign me up

I think I’ve seen the look before, yes/ it’s kind of non-committal

It says come hither, baby, but then he’s hard wood to whittle/ it says it don’t mean a thing, but still, somebody does

He’d like you to join the club that likes to say/ there’s no such thing as love and


Sometimes you find yourself/ flying low at night

Flying blind and looking for/ any sign of light

You’re cold and scared, and all alone/ you’d do anything to make it home


Sign me up

Thanks a lot,



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