You come on like gangbusters laying it thick   Arboreal sleestack lost in the sticks   It's warm for a witchtrial, don't you agree   Cold are the hands that would ever touch me      You got the energy of a classic creep   With sex vibe for miles and shark eyes asleep   No intuition, no need to sleuth   Poor is the man who would sully my view      A one minute story is all that you are   A song undeveloped, beyond the first bar   For all of your hustle, what did you win   Woe is the man with the cheshire cat grin      You criticize life   You criticize pain   You criticize situations you’ve never been in   But dawn for the dilletants will come soon enough   Alright      The panic is leaking through every clear pore   Your animus weakened acetylene torch   So root for the crucifix on the skull full of rot   Alright      I’m in love with the people   I’m in love with a saint   I’m in love with a soldier from Baltimore   Baltimore   Baltimore   Baltimore   Baltimore