Cupid Carries a Gun
Pound me the witch drums, witch drumsPound me the witch drumsPound me the witch drums, the witch drumsBetter pray for hell, not hallelujah
I'm the curled up fistsDead and hardened spidersLike two mangled crownsOn the white heads of the meanest coiled snakesFolks say that ILook like DeathLived in the hotel of my eyesBlinds wide open like a whorePaid in spit from that hearse between her thighs
Keep your halos tightI'm your god or your guardianKeep your halo tightOne hand on the trigger, the other hand in mineBecause nowCupid carries a gunNow, nowCupid, Cupid carries a gun
She had those crow-black eyesStarless, but she fucked like a cometShe laid as still as a BibleAnd it felt like Revelations when I looked inside