I have the sketchy past, yet I have shed my wings.

Cold turkey now; hanging by a heart-string.

Dangle over her, above the pulsing bar,

She tries to catch my eye; her gaze is deafening.

What do you call a lass conservatively dressed,

With a glimmer in her eye that screams “I’m next”?

I am the greasy chump with whom she’ll fall in love.

If I’m her fall from grace, then she’s my christening.

You look so good tonight, you look so good tonight.

Break down those walls tonight, you look so good tonight.

And when we’re good and close, I think I’ll steal your time.

They can shoot on sight, but it’s alright.

You look so good tonight, you look so good tonight.

And I don’t care which prophet you adore, who you voted for;

it won’t discourage love’s sick former manwhore.

Your skin against my own, I’ll be your Oli Stone,

You’ll be my Audrey Hep, you can have what is left.

And we’ll combine to be some kind of Japanese mecca-creation

With two fused persuasions, yeah.

We’ll destroy the earth and herald it’s rebirth

And somewhere, or someone like you would hit on me.