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