So grab your rose and ring side seat,
|
We're back home at Conry's bar
|
The blond girl with her tattoo,
|
Reds and wine, cokes of course
|
|
Oh my suzy, my suzy,
|
Why did we ever start
|
It's morning now, you'd never know
|
The gin, the gin, glows in the dark, glows in the dark
|
|
And underneath, the black light,
|
Underneath it all
|
Four and forty redheads meet,
|
Come to doom 'til the dawn
|
|
With threats of gas and rose motif
|
Their lips apart like a swollen rose
|
Their tongues extend, and then retract
|
A redcap, a redcap, before the kiss, before the kiss.
|
|
Doors like flint and window panes
|
An endless shadow bar
|
The owner's boys have gone to work
|
To stop big deals behind the bar
|
|
While outside on the turnpike
|
They got this new hit tune
|
Where thrills become as cheap as gas
|
And gas as cheap as thrills
|
|
One thrill and mundane here at last
|
Expect the cross one more
|
Lecherous invisible
|
Beware the limping cat
|
|
Whose black teeth grip between loose jaws
|
Still ripe and fully bloomed
|
A rose that's not from anywhere
|
That you would know or I would care
|
|
And the owners boys act most cheerfully
|
Back home at Conry's bar
|
When their patrons' thoughts at last
|
Grow too big for their skulls
|
|
And awful things are happening
|
We've let this drama fold
|
And now the time has come at last
|
To crush the motif of the rose.
|
|
So grab your rose and ring side seat
|
We're back home at Conry's bar
|
The blond girl with her tattoo
|
Reds and wine, cokes of course
|
|
Oh my suzy, my suzy
|
Why did we ever start
|
It's morning now, you'd never know
|
The gin, the gin, glows in the dark, glows in the dark
|
|
-----------------
|
BEFORE THE KISS
|
| Blue Oyster Cult |
