i'll spread me open
stuck to my ribs
are all your infants in abortion cribs
you run like roaches and
you try to die
i know your poison
in our space we'll lie

to an obscene god we will dance and spit
the skin is thin, in our beds we sit
we take off our rings and we kneel
our scabbed knees are so slow to heal

stretch a little boy hole for looking-glass people
i don't want to be me
i don't want to fear, no
mama's got a scarecrow
got to let the corn grow
a man can't always reap what he sows

cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
i'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine

leave yourself to be ultra-here
the chill of fall is always crawling near
spiders in the flowers never know their smell
the barbers here know secrets they will never tell

cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime
i'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine