I'll spread me open, stuck to my ribs 
Are all your infants in abortion cribs  [bad word] like roaches, and you try to die 
I know your poison, in our space we'll lie 
To an obscene god we will dance and spit 
The skin is thin, in our beds we sit 
We take off our rings and we kneel 
Our scabbed knees are so slow to heal 
Stretch a little boy hole 
For looking-glass people 
I don't want to be me 
I don't want to fear, no 
Momma's got a scarecrow 
Got to let the corn grow 
man can't always reap what he sows 
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime 
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine) 
Leave yourself to be ultra-here 
The chill of fall is always crawling near 
Spiders in the flowers 
Never know their smell 
The barbers here know secrets 
They will never tell 
(Cut, cut, cut in pantomime, mime, mime 
I'll be your devil if you'll admit you're mine)