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"