I was a lover, before this war   held up in a luxury suite, behind a barricaded door   now that I've cleaned up, gone legit   I can see clearly: round hole   round whole, square peg don't fit      I'm locked in my bedroom, so send back the clowns   my clone wears a brown shirt, and I seduce him when there's no one around   mano y mano, on a bed of nails   bring it on like a storm, till I knock the wind out of his sails   And we don't make eye contact, when we have run-in's in town   just a barely polite nod, and nervous stares towards the ground   I once joined a priest class, plastic, inert   in a slowdance with commerce   like a lens up a skirt      And we liked to party   and we kept it live   and we had a three volume tome of contemporary slang   to keep a handle on all this jive      Ennui unbridled, let's talk to kill the time   how many styles did you cycle through before you were mine?   and it's been a while since we went wild and that's all fine   but we're sleepwalking through this trial   and it's really a crime it's really a crime it's really a crime   it's really criminal      We're just busy tempting, like fate's on the nod   running on empty, bourbon and god   it's been a while since we knew the way   and it's been even longer since our plastic priest class   had a goddamned thing to say      I was a lover before this war