She's got her eyes open wide
She's got the dirt and spit of the world
Her mouth on the metal
Lips of a scared little girl
I've got an angel in the lobby
He's waiting to put me in line
But I won't ask forgiveness
My faith has gone dry
She's got her Christian prescriptures
And death has crawled in her ear
Like elevator music of songs
That she shouldn't hear
And it spins around (One, two, three)
And we all lay down (Four, five, six)
Some do it fast and some do it better in smaller amounts
And it spins around (One, two, three)
And we all lay down (Four, five, six)
Some do it fast, some do it better in smaller amounts.
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