| Over the river climbing up the hill
|
| Like a digital reproduction
|
| A frequency that kills
|
| Women weep, dogs faint, the police beg
|
| But she won’t stop that feeling
|
| Going up and down their legs
|
| Aches and pains
|
| I swear some women have fangs
|
| I’ll help you count your scars tomorrow
|
| You spoke out loud when you should bite your lip
|
| Now the joke’s on you my friend
|
| And you can’t get it fixed
|
| Your zipper broke, she stole your socks, you lost your shirt
|
| She grabbed you by the nose
|
| And she rubbed it in the dirt
|
| Over the river climbing up the hill
|
| Like a digital reproduction
|
| A frequency that kills
|
| The big old dog just lost his bone
|
| So now he begs
|
| But she won’t stop that feeling
|
| Going up and down and up and down his leg |