Atomic Ballroom Calamity

Bring all your hoes to the garden of sweden
Where there's an orchid for every "love me, love me not" that you've got
Oh my god!
These seraphims are fabricators
They dip their shot glasses in the fountain of youth
Like its a goddamn watering hole
So toss back your books and your fucking cardboard and your "blood" or "wine"
For christ sake
As we sing
"Oh my fucking god!"

We have become a part of you
We are inside of you
We're dancing in your ears
So consider yourself brainwashed
Cause you've got demons singing you to sleep

For those of us who's choir serenades the agnostics and the scientist

I have no heart!
I cannot love!

I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood
I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood
I'll feed you whiskey and I'll feed you blood
Oh lord have pity on me
Oh lord have pity on me
Oh lord have pity on me
Oh please fiction have pity on me

My brain is functioning with a new form of love


Love! Love! Love! Love!......


Bring all your hoes to the garden of sweden
Where the angels can tangle all your love up in knots
Oh my god!
These seraphims are all fools
They kiss the frogs to find out that they turn into locusts