I'll spread me open, stuck to my ribs
|
Are all your infants in abortion cribs
|
You run like roaches, and you try to die
|
I know your poison, in our space we'll lie
|
To an obscene god we will dance and spit
|
The skin is thin, in our beds we sit
|
We take off our rings and we kneel
|
Our scabbed knees are so slow to heal
|
Sketch a little key hole
|
For looking-glass people
|
I don't want to be me
|
I don't want to fear, no
|
Momma's got a scarecrow
|
Got to let the corn grow
|
A man can't always reap what he sows
|
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
|
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine)
|
Leave yourself to be ultra-here
|
The chill of fall is always crawling near
|
Spiders in the flowers
|
Never know their smell
|
The barbers here know secrets
|
They will never tell
|
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
|
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine)
|
|
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|
Luci In The Sky With Demons
|
| Marilyn Manson |
