| Standing like a saint, how that you’re on the other side
|
| Has amnesia wiped clear your own troubled times?
|
| To nibble on the fruits of the forest isn’t really a crime
|
| Dismiss fabled folly of another man’s faith
|
| The lore within your own, you deem as true and sane
|
| By Toutatis, we’re all pretty much the same
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out
|
| Cosmetics override substance in the hunt
|
| The hunt for romance and the dance of lust
|
| Go on, smear your lipstick on
|
| In this life’s game
|
| There’ll be tears and champagne
|
| The crowd will hover round
|
| To applaud them falling down
|
| The demise of the famous
|
| Always gets a rousing ovation
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out
|
| Skeletons, skeletons
|
| Shaking in the closet, shaking in the closet
|
| They’re going to get out |