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Razors

While the Moon's in Utah,
it drives us crazy,
sealed in lead,
tired, we fall to the ground
 
our feelings like razors,
my ballerina's razors,
and in this bleak day,
bleak nipples
 
we're on a train,
in fact all the time,
with hell and angels,
before we realise it
 
razors on our bodies,
razors in our bodies,
razors in our hair,
razors and one single stitch.
 

White and cold

White and cold,
she came to tell me,
that all my,
that all my
future parties
will take us
to hell
and when we kneel down,
our heads against the wind,
the Death will come to us,
the Death will come to us.
 
There it comes
and stares at us
 
I don't want
girls to die,
and especially not upside down,
especially not upside down,
I don't want them to fly to hell,
just to sit in a bar with me,
and then, and then, and then,
we'd go together,
to the white devil,
to the white table.