16/ too good-looking for her

The car park fills up nicely.
We go up when it’s sunny.
I am no more than a few steps away,
and you falling out of your dress.
So there could be a God,
there could be hell.
I’m a bit too good-looking for her.
She might like me, it’s hard to tell;
in her bare feet she runs
past the rising sea and ice-cream van.

Then this guy comes up and says:
“Hey, remember?
I was going out with the one you saw me with.
Well, it’s ended.

I’m on the streets and keep being moved on.
I can buy a tent, loads less than the going.
I need a couple now,
I’ll borrow it back.
I won’t do it again.”