Blow your horn,
whistle your pipe,
for there's nothing you can do,
to change the habit of time,

forced to reveal the chains of slime
bouncing, from time to time,
in the clubs
outside the bars,
you can feel the heat bouncing off the streets,
there you stand falling off your feet,
had to much to drink you think?
Hey wait a minute! I'm super delighted to be your treat,
you scream to the fallen queens and drunken queers,
if you showed them the light
would they be satisfied?

Dressing-rooms of primadonnas and public divas
are the stage for the drama to be seen,
the clowns of mad-tv are fully responsible for that
that the drama is to be seen by no-other than those with a non-catholic belief.

the chock struck me by the fingertips,
and I'm bleeding from my ears
from hearing a thing like this!