Letra Image de Theatre Of Tragedy

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You act a pansy, pushover
Do live your fancy, go lower
Who is that, something says your name
You seem chancy, moreover

The call is mine
I´m gonna get you up
I´m wanna get on top
(Repeat)

On the skew, you´re dancing all over
You are the anti-fashion statement
In a blue suit, orange pullover
You look like my old dog Rover

The call is mine
I´m gonna get you up
I´m wanna get on top
(Repeat)

Head crash - I can´t see you
Spit teeth - I can hear you
I feel your pounding me onto the street
I´ve learned to know the taste of concrete

Why don´t you follow me?

Street brash - time flies, tick-tock
Eyes flash - feels like electroshock
I feel the blood gushing, crumbling away
I know this marks the end of my hey-day

Why don´t you follow me?