| She’s across the ring, spitting pink, menace flicking slurs
|
| I’m on the floor, wretched ball, poet with my words
|
| So come at me with that savage streak, howling to be loved
|
| Just don’t take off the gloves
|
| Two vicious drunks' teeth have sunk into an open wound
|
| Connection lost as though I caught dementia from the moon
|
| So come at me when I’m weak, degraded, and undone
|
| Just don’t take off the gloves
|
| That sucker punch, that brittle touch
|
| And the cut keeps dripping but the blood won’t thicken
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| That sucker punch, that brittle touch
|
| And the cut keeps dripping but the blood won’t thicken
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| Here it falls again by buried green on bare electric wire
|
| How we find this demon lights a heavy-handed fire
|
| We’re kissing drinks, spilling wind, howling to be loved
|
| Oh don’t take off, don’t take off the gloves
|
| That sucker punch, that brittle touch
|
| And the cut keeps dripping but the blood won’t thicken
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| That sucker punch, that brittle touch
|
| And the cut keeps dripping but the blood won’t thicken
|
| There’s poison in the tap water
|
| There’s poison in the tap water |