You wandered in there, you wanted it in there
You wanted it in there, every night you took the air
Gasping for anything, there sits the Boston Strangler

Calling all cars
The palace has a moss problem
It glows in the dawn, the light
Goes wherever you go, sewn into your hem
It's me versus them

First us versus not a goddamn thing
Then The Blind Bitch vs. The Clucking Hen
In a ring, around the razor's edge

Kind of dark in here, she says
Kind of dark in here, she says
Kind of dark in here, she says
Kind of dark in here, she says