Sing Out The Top of Your Head

incineration engine a three martini depth narcosis ladyboys in the gallery adonis and aphrodite floating she sips an ether cocktail standing up for the twenty three bowing down before beauty he's been ill for three weeks puking in a dark room a long way from home i am drama but its better than watching east enders and waiting live it long love let's have it bring it on tickling a trout wetting my hands so as not to damage your skin the next time i see you you will be looking at me with shiny silver edge june june june june june june june july august the winter months twelve minutes of electroclash talk about bad jobs we've had loose cannon labour shiva dance suck em in seven hundred veils driving my boat onto the razor rocks a siren kicking over the table at the tea party the teenagers are accountants and afraid we opened the door to orion and she would rather stay at home me i'll saddle up anyday now head for the hills tonto to the lone derranger holster packed with silver bullets nudge you with the spur pull you up sweating nostrils flaring then turn you around the tree let you fly for the horizon sling shot to the moon howling for you child angel mine give me wings skidoo crack the whip harness me beside the lead dog pole to pole north to north pushing the positives of the magnet together hear them adjust balance and bond waves folding onto black sand beach flick the bait out to the shoals hook the island we walk that space of sorrow that tane forged for us no food will satiate me no wine will quench me son of a londoner son of a viking triumph of the will babies baby thats what its all about