Brandenburg Gate
I would cut my legs and tits offWhen I think of Boris Karloff and KinskiIn the dark of the moon
It made me dream of NosferatuTrapped on the isle of Doctor MoreauOh wouldn’t it be lovely
I was thinking Peter LorreWhen things got pretty gory as ICrossed to the Brandenburg Gate
I was feeling snappy perhaps I’d been nappingAnd I’d just ateA following heart can tear you apartOn a midnight to 8 shift
A graveyard romance can only give one chanceAs the tombstones weave and breathe
Feeling happy when my heart got beatingOn a Sunday afternoon
I dreamt of breezes going through the treesesAnd stars were still illumedI have three hearts that I keep apartTrying to relateTo normal feelings and the nightime reelingsAnd some absynthe drunk so late
The cook got drunk and all the whores they shrunkOnto the size of dessert platesBut me I’m happy cause I got my little nappyAnd some opium to set me straightI’m just a small town girl who wants to give it a whirlWhile my looks still hold me straight
Straight up to illusion and fantasy’s fusionOf reality mixed with drinkI’m just a small town girl who’s gonna give life a whirlLooking at the Brandenburg Gate