I cant lie on this bed anymore it burns my skin
You can take the truthful things youve said to me
And put them on the head of a pin
Poor napoleon
You always look so disappointed when I take my stockings off
Dont you know the facts of life, boy
Dont you know what these things cost
She was selling stolen kisses to travelling salesmen and minstrel singers
You put a penny in the slot
She called you her magic fingers
Poor napoleon
I bet she isnt all thats advertised
I bet that isnt all she fakes
Just like that place where they take your spine
And turn it into soapflakes
So good night little school boy, youd better learn some self control
Did you mess up your hairstyle, pour scorn in your begging bowl
Bare wires from the socket to the bed where you embraced that girl
Did you ever think theres far too many people in the world?
One day theyll probably make a movie out of all of this
There wont even have to be a murder just a slow dissolving kiss