| I’ll scan for you in infra-red
|
| Unleash the hunger in your head
|
| Catch a steel low-engine whine
|
| Along the sweating curve of your spine
|
| 'Cause it’s not really fun
|
| 'Til electricity hums and
|
| Gets us shivering shuddering shaking
|
| Come all undone
|
| On the lip of the whispering night
|
| Your little moth wings come alight
|
| I got my fork and my knife
|
| Cut myself a sweaty slice
|
| Dropped my blackened spoon
|
| I’ve got a taste for you
|
| You better run for your life
|
| I’ll take a slice off the back
|
| Your oil-slick black eyes rainbow shimmer
|
| Halo of fire flicker glitter and glimmer
|
| Drag your lo-light drapes around me Winking satellites surround me I embrace your tender fracture
|
| (You're) my particular spectacular
|
| I got my fork and my knife
|
| Cut myself a sweaty slice
|
| Drop my blackened spoon
|
| I’ve got a taste for you
|
| My teeth incising for a bite
|
| You better run for your life
|
| I’m hacking into you tonight
|
| Ball-gag leather-tight
|
| Spat out, shat out
|
| Last page torn out
|
| Worn out turned down
|
| Turned on and turned out |