The sound of new machines
Over the junkyard
Ease him into sleep
A bullet to the brain
Means that he drunk hard
Looking for the deep
A stranger he now knows
To be a countess
Wakes him with a start
And asks please take me home
To Daddy's address
You can have my heart
A stranger he now knows
To be unstable
Writhes with need and fears
A look of pure dirt
Across the table
Even so he hears
The alarm in his head
Moving into the red
Sounding like punches and knives
Hear the voices, they cry
It's likely you'll die
Pounded by punches and knives
The lady did not show
Her recognition
Of his firm replies
Just took control and moved
Into position
Sparks in magnet eyes
So with one simple no
It's the green light to go
What if the answer was so
A week's loving quite dark
And out goes the spark
Then she'd have finished with me
A stare he could see now
May signal violence
Should he make a move
A sweetly pleading smile
Prompts only silence
Got no point to prove
A stare he could now see
Went quite a distance
Hiding make-up tears
With loud and knowing tones
Of dark insistence
This is what he hears
Writer(s): Writer Unknown, Keith Tenniswood
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