The scraping is complete   and we're out on the street.   Killers on the loose   and we're holding hands–   it's still protected by the law.   Thank our lucky stars   there weren't any kooks   with placards in hand.      Girlfriend, come near,   we're having a bad year.   The saddest thing:   I thought this would bring   us closer.      Do we deny it to the end,   to ourselves and to our friends?   Do we file it away:   dead babies, mortal sins?   Or could it get us off   'cause we act like little gods?      Girlfriend, come near,   I'm having a bad year.   The saddest thing:   I thought this would bring   us closer.      Killers on the loose   and we're holding hands–   it's still protected by the law.   Thank our lucky stars   there weren't any kooks   with placards in hand   of fetuses in tubes   our baby red and blue,   black and blue.