Besedila:
Cake Motorcade Of Generocity

She's gonna hand you a red-headed Gabriel, Coming from the bar in a plastic tie. He's gonna swing from the Tree of Life. He's gonna try to sell you on

It's three o'clock in the morning, Or maybe it's four. I am thinking of you, Wondering what I should I do, But I'm finally cutting through this haze.

I can't believe it's true. I can't believe that you Don't want me anymore. You're with him, And you don't even know That I've been dying all day long

Jesus wrote a blank check, One I haven't cashed quite yet. I hope I've got a little more time. I hope it's not the end of the line. Yeah, Jesus wrote

Well, your CD collection looks shiny and costly. How much did you pay for your bad Moto Guzi? And how much did you spend on your black leather jacket

Your pentagram is down below our floor. Your naked body shimmers in the night. Dancing and chanting in a sacrificial rite. Your feet are dry with the

You part the waters, The same ones that I'm drowning in. You lead your casual slaughters, And I'm the one who helps you win. You've got your grand piano