I made The Spike about nine o'clock on a Saturday All eyes hit me as I walked into the bar Them steel and leather guys were fooling with the denim dudes A couple cops playing rough stuff, New York, Fire Island I cased the joint, straining at the seams I moseyed up to the counter and the tender came a-grinnin' I snapped the smile off his face and snarled: Give me a bourbon The mirror on the wall was collecting and reflecting All the heavy bodies ducking, stealing, eager for some action The scene screwed me up, I saw some contact Then the big boss saw me and knew that I'd had too much, floating around Statues alive, seconds are hours Sex like a hurricane, it's ravaging and shattering I was barely holding on to this flying body, symphony I guess I dream in pictures, not colours The true free expression I demand is human rights, right? I came alive, I am immortal I'm going, no loss I'm going, no loss I'm going, no loss I'm going, no loss Nightmare, just a bunch of goddamn rotten, steaming Raw Deal