Don’t roll over, my baby, there is no fuckin’ room,
Get your clothes on and go in that street, in its gloom,
Run away and run out, you’re a river, a pet,
Make a killing, my cutie, die on a redwood bed.
Oh, don’t follow the rabbit, Alice has grown old,
We will jump in the black hole, turning white, getting cold,
Your hand is in my fingers, you’re a mama-said-doll,
You’re a puppet, another scarry brick in the wall,
Don’t touch stars and fly out like a moth to a mouth,
That black town will chew you up in a week, in a month,
If you like something, baby, stop your breathing on it,
Let the beauty bloom always, let the candle stay lit.