You wandered in there, you wanted it in there You wanted it in there, every night you took the air Gasping for anything, there sits the Boston Strangler Calling all cars The palace has a moss problem It glows in the dawn, the light Goes wherever you go, sewn into your hem It's me versus them First us versus not a goddamn thing Then The Blind Bitch vs. The Clucking Hen In a ring, around the razor's edge Kind of dark in here, she says Kind of dark in here, she says Kind of dark in here, she says Kind of dark in here, she says