In the dark there's a hole where the rabbits go no more. There's a path to a room where a black cradle waits for you. And i cut your hair last night, i found the birthmark that you hide That spells out the number of the beast. This is an omen, i am sure. For darkness there can't be no cure. Now i can put my finger on the patch of sky That seems to be hanging over our heads, That sends hailstorms down on our bed And i look up and wait for lightning to strike. So i perform exorcisms With alcohol and violent kisses. But the exchange of dispair, My fingers tangled up in your hair Won't keep the devil at bay. This is an invasion of body snatchers. They replaced me with a box of matches. Now i run red-headed through life, prepared to burn down. We'll meet on our tricycles down the hall To race down the corridors of our downfall. No glowing christian crosses could make this a movie our Grandmothers would watch. So i perform exorcisms With alcohol and violent kisses. But the exchange of dispair, My fingers tangled up in your hair Won't keep the devil at bay.