Ill make you a deal like any other candidate Well pretend were walking home cause your futures at stake My set is amazing, it even smells like the street There is a bar at the end where I could meet you and your friend Someone scrawled on the wall I smell the blood of les tricoteuses Who wrote up scandals in other bars I am having so much fun with the poisonous people Spreading rumors and lies and stories they made up Some make you sing and some make you scream One makes you wish that you never been seen But theres a shop on the corner selling papier mache Making bulletproof faces Charles Manson, Cassius Clay If you want it, boys get it here thing So you scream out of line I want you! I need you! Anyone out there? Anytime? Tres butch little numberwang Hey girlie, I want you When its good its really good and when its bad I go to pieces If you want it, boys, get it here, thing Well, on the street where you live I could not hold up my head For I put all I have in another bed On another floor, in the back of a car In the cellar of a church with the door ajar Well, I guess we must be looking for a different kind But we cant stop trying til we break up our minds Til the sun drips blood on the seedy young knights Who press you on the ground while shaking in fright I guess we could cruise down one more time With you by my side, it should be fine Well buy some drugs and watch a band Then jump in the river holding hands
numberwang, tricoteuses, papier, well, mache