My love she hides a [bad word] disease 
It's the bullet in her mind, it's the plan 
between her knees 
It's the colour of the night, it's the 
number of the beast 

My love she dreams of Tel Aviv 
She's got nails in her hands and nails 
in her feet 
She's not from the Holy Land but she 
think she used to be 

Tell me when was [bad word] so beautiful? 
Tell me with your words that disagree 
Tell me with your reason carved like granite 
Tell me so that I can be free 

My love she's like a [bad word] disease 
She's the bullet in my mind 
She's got a plan between her knees 
She's the colour of the night 
She stirs the beast in me