MOLLY: Part-time Siren Boys drowning in my song They're hip-wrecked Pleasured screams The four o clock hasn't rung BOYLAN: The double chambers of my groin Echo-tingle With the pa**ing hand of her voice. Jingle, jingle I head out Make a beeline towards my queen MOLLY: Sorry funny honey, you're just a ditty in between My next conquest sings Italian But of love, he doesn't know the words Till he sees my shape of lust And into haggard song he'll bust BLOOM: Two barmaids of gold and bronze Two bard maids compose the song That loops eternally around my neck
In noose Four o clock will cut me loose By then, no hangman in sight But the thought of their bodies, my eternal first light MOLLY: And four o clock and the sailor will come But the man I need never nears my mists If only he'd come down from the mast I want to lay with the future, he with the past And that is how ghosts are conceived And that is how ghosts are conceived Dong Dong Dong Ding. And the noose came off. He fell to the ground. But in this freedom, he was more than ever bound To her sound and her song. No turning back, the way home is long.