In conversation with a kaleidoscope of black The kiss of death has given orders to attack My clarity and order leave me to believe The innocent aren't living and the wild ones are a dying, lonely breed
The trick turned alley whores have tripled just this hour A three foot Satan promises more hate and power Behind the mirrored door and the opium wasteland The tour guide melted in a patch of quicksand and the damned have been exploited
A lovely sort of death that takes you like an endless lover A lovely sort of death that takes you in and never can let go A lovely sort of death that leaves you like a dead-beat mother A lovely sort of death that takes you in and never can let go