There’s a devil on my shoulder and an angel on my mind
God, I want to hold her, feel her heavenly design
There’s a worm inside a bottle, and a fisherman at sea
The worm has turned to tell me that he’s got a hook for me
There’s a devil on my shoulder and an angel at my side
Can I undress your vessel, view your cultural divide?
There’s a ship inside a bottle, and a serpent in the sea
You slip your slip just like a model and you fake a smile for me
You slip your slip just like a model and you fake a smile for me
I am washed upon your shallows with my flicking devil’s tongue
Singing songs about the gallows where all devils are well hung
And in the deep red tide that heaves and swells and pulls me all asunder
I think I hear Pavlov’s hypnotic knells, they nominate my hunger
There’s a devil on my shoulder and an angel going blind
I’m in her milky, sultry cosmos, but her body’s undefined
There’s a devil on my shoulder, and I’m running out of patience
Can I use my hands to mold her to my specifications?
Can I use my hands to mold her to my specifications? There’s an angel in my
headlights and a devil at the wheel
And now I’ve merged my birth-death destinies into a singular appeal
If I could worship at your chalice, I’d resuscitate my soul.
And then she leads me to her palace saying,
«Hell ain’t half full.»
And then she leads me to her palace saying,
«Hell ain’t half full.»
There’s a birthmark on my shoulder, and a red coal in my brain
And that demon’s chanting and it’s sounding something like this