In conversation with a kaleidoscope of black
The kiss of death has given orders to attack
My clarity and order leave me to believe
The innocent aren't living and the wild ones are a dying, lonely breed
The trick turned alley whores have tripled just this hour
A three foot Satan promises more hate and power
Behind the mirrored door and the opium wasteland
The tour guide melted in a patch of quicksand and the damned have been exploited
A lovely sort of death that takes you like an endless lover
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and never can let go
A lovely sort of death that leaves you like a dead-beat mother
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and never can let go