You come on like gangbusters laying it thick
Arboreal sleestack lost in the sticks
It's warm for a witchtrial, don't you agree
Cold are the hands that would ever touch me

You got the energy of a classic creep
With sex vibe for miles and shark eyes asleep
No intuition, no need to sleuth
Poor is the man who would sully my view

A one minute story is all that you are
A song undeveloped, beyond the first bar
For all of your hustle, what did you win
Woe is the man with the cheshire cat grin

You criticize life
You criticize pain
You criticize situations you’ve never been in
But dawn for the dilletants will come soon enough
Alright

The panic is leaking through every clear pore
Your animus weakened acetylene torch
So root for the crucifix on the skull full of rot
Alright

I’m in love with the people
I’m in love with a saint
I’m in love with a soldier from Baltimore
Baltimore
Baltimore
Baltimore
Baltimore