December 9th, 2004

*RaZoR* By:Head Automatica


This is television, late night television, scripted with precision
A corner store pulp fiction sits where your heart isn't
And with your eyes so green, and your pinkish theme
You made an old friend seem rather dead to me
Alas, the weapon sex can be

Your body is a weapon and you're afraid it could get out
A friend of the devil and you're afraid it could get out

Don't say i don't cut when i do, i do, i do
Don't say i'm lying when i'm true, i'm true, i'm true
The razor

You rub of suspicious, so vile and aniscious, with a heart so vicious
And dare you ask what this is, this is so delicious
To eat the best of you like the others do
We take your pride from you
The drive-in, the embassy, the jets, it's all the same to me

Your body is a weapon and you're afraid it could get out