|
We cut our teeth in the bedroom |
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We slit our wrists in our costumes |
|
All of them witches, witches, witches, witches |
|
We are the death of the party |
|
We are the life of the funeral |
|
All of us ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen |
|
I want the ripened fruit |
|
I want the fresh meat |
|
I want the first born |
|
I want the down beat |
|
We traded vows on the front line |
|
They ushered us through the stop sign |
|
All of them witches, witches, witches, witches |
|
We found our way in the blackout |
|
We are the ghosts in the lighthouse |
|
All of us ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen |
|
I want the open wound |
|
I want the dark street |
|
I want the virgin blood |
|
I want the wet heat |
