A black sheep boy revolves
Over canyons and waterfalls
A black sheep boy dissolves
In syringe or in shower stall
Says
"There's plenty of time to make you mine tonight"
Says
"There's plenty of time to make you mine"
Says
"There's plenty of ways to know you're not dying
All right
Hell, there's plenty of light still left in your eyes
In your eyes"
A black sheep boy grows horns
Breathing smoke through his microphone
The airwaves stretch and they groan
Bleeding, birthing his black diapason
Says
"There's plenty of things to wear when you come to me
Every color of sleeve to be rolled
Millions of rolling eyes that still cling to me
Every language of king is concerned
So why did you bawl
From the spell of some old holy song
Some liar laughed as he composed
Some liar I loved to control"
A black sheep boy dissolves
In hot cream, in sweet moans
In each dead bed and empty home
In each seething bacterium
k**ing softly and serial
He lifts his head, handsome, horned, magisterial
He's the smell of the moonlight wisteria
He's the thrill of the abecedarian
(See the muddy hoofprints where he carried you)
And there's plenty of ways to claim his crimes tonight
And there's plenty of things to do on his dime
And there's plenty of ways to wear his hide tonight
You've got yours, I've got mine
You've got yours, I've got mine
So why did you flee
Don't you know you can't leave his control
Only call all his wild works your own
So come back and we'll take them all on
So come back to your life on the lam
So come back to your old black sheep man
Says
"I'm waiting on hoof and on hand
I'm waiting, all hated and damned
I'm waiting, I snort and I stamp
I'm waiting, you know that I am
Calmly waiting to make you my lamb"