From the dust hundred forty three one Fell in the circle of the world like a flower bud A million marbled mouths all blinking Moon of milky briar blooms sleeping Blithy flies swarm a swift pull trigger Lift me off the ledge, lick the sticky liquor Don’t let him in, don’t let them call your number Won’t you hold my hand as I go under? Ooh, come a little closer Ooh, same as the last Ooh, megalomaniac Cut my tongue, better watch your back Eye to thigh as he sharpens his blade Thick sweat, sick salt, lead bellyaches I don’t know what I’ve been drinking Dripping dread as all the lights start scrеaming Seven-inch steel bolt fed to thе head Now is then and I am now bound to forget The devil wears a cotton dress over his gun Jagged mumbles wispy warbles blushing in the Sun Ooh, come a little closer Ooh, same as the last Ooh, megalomaniac Cut my tongue, better watch your back Ooh, come a little closer Ooh, same as the last Ooh, megalomaniac Cut my tongue, better watch your back