In conversation with a kaleidoscope of black
The kiss of death has given orders to attack
My clarity and order leaves me to believe
The innocent aren't living
And the wild ones are a dying, lonely breed

The trick turned alley whores have tripled just this hour
A three foot Satan promises more hate and power
Behind the mirrored door and the opium wasteland
The tour guide melted in a patch of quicksand
And the damned have been exploited

A lovely sort of death that takes you like an endless lover
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and can never let go
A lovely sort of death that leaves you like a dead-beat mother
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and can never let go

A lovely sort of death that takes you like an endless lover
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and can never let go
A lovely sort of death that leaves you like a dead-beat mother
A lovely sort of death that takes you in and can never let go