| There was a thump, then another*
|
| That came quicker than the others
|
| And yet, try as I may
|
| They kept speeding up that way
|
| I was the same two consonants
|
| I just wanted u, all vowels
|
| There was some twisting and some turning
|
| Like Sam Cooke dancing on my bowels
|
| What makes you hot like an oven
|
| Sweat like a barrel
|
| Of a shotgun pointed at you
|
| Held by the devil
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| Sway to the right
|
| Snake under charm, I couldn’t fight
|
| Without thought she took my hand
|
| It seems she’s already made plans
|
| Now my feet keep shifting nervously
|
| Stripping shine right off the floor
|
| And my sweat glands keep shouting
|
| We can’t take it any more
|
| What makes you hot like an oven
|
| Sweat like a barrel
|
| Of a shotgun pointed at you
|
| Held by the devil
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| What makes you hot like an oven
|
| Sweat like a barrel
|
| Of a shotgun pointed at you
|
| Held by the devil
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| I wouldn’t call it love
|
| But my heart sure is pumping blood
|
| It isn’t pretty but it works
|
| No it’s not sharp but it still hurts
|
| I was the same two consonants |