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I made a spike about nine o’clock on a Saturday
All eyes hit me as I walked into the door
And seeing other guys were fooling in the denim dudes
A couple cards played rough stuff, New York, fire island

I cased the joint
Straining at the scenes

I moseyed up to the counter and the tender came a-grinnin’
I snapped the smile off his face and scowled „Give me a bourbon”
The mirror on the wall was collecting and reflecting
All the heavy bodies ducking, stealing eager for some action
The scene screwed me up, I saw some contact

Then the big boys
Saw me and knew that
I’d had too much, floating around
Statues alive, seconds are hours

Sacks like a hurricane, wrapped in and shattered
I was barely holding on to this flying body symphony
I guess I dream in pictures, not colors
The true free expression I demand is human rights, right

I gave my life
I am immortal

I’m going, no loss [x4]

Nightmare
Just a bunch of goddamn, rotten, steaming
Raw deal

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