oh good heavens, baby where’s my medicine?
i must have left it outside with my etiquette
the undertaker’s rule of thumb
it’s hard to talk with a novocain tongue
this room smells like hotel illness
the scars i hide are now your business
i can’t seem to make hair nor hide of this
no baby love is not a punishment.
hypnotize by your rotten behavior
this week’s fashion is last year’s flavor
i got a head full of sermons and a mouth full of spiders
the politics of the world’s greatest liar
so tell me baby is it true all those things that they say about you…