Lyrics:

She's got the soul, but her gut needs to run
To have the marking washed about the things and like
Everybody's laughing 'bout the clown in her head
I start to dress me like the wise girls said

Some people whisper and some people talk too much
I feel the time has come, I feel the job is done
Something is ridiculous, she takes my hand and say:
'Dont you want to fuck me? I am ready to play!'

I am the gear, she is obscene.
We are the oil of the shaking bed machine.
Another scream, wake up - it's your dream.
That is what I mean.

Here comes a strange kind of hero.
Non-formal stories that you know.
Don't get me wrong, you'll try the dark way.
Don't get me wrong, it's not your last day.

She is a bee with a sting in her hand
She loves a run back in my gone freezing land
We fall into plans and we dropped in to the force
And now she spreads her legs 'You wanna ride me like a horse?'

I am the gear, she is obscene.
We are the oil of the shaking bed machine.
Another scream, wake up - it's your dream.
That is what I mean.

Here comes a strange kind of hero.
Non-formal stories that you know.
Don't get me wrong, you'll try the dark way.
Don't get me wrong, it's not your last day.

And now it feels like before,
I know you ask for more,
Don't get me wrong, here's the law.