Brandenburg Gate

I would cut my legs and tits off When I think of Boris Karloff and Kinski In the dark of the moon It made me dream of Nosferatu Trapped on the isle of Doctor Moreau Oh wouldn’t it be lovely I was thinking Peter Lorre When things got pretty gory as I Crossed to the Brandenburg Gate I was feeling snappy perhaps I’d been napping And I’d just ate A following heart can tear you apart On a midnight to 8 shift A graveyard romance can only give one chance As the tombstones weave and breathe Feeling happy when my heart got beating On a Sunday afternoon I dreamt of breezes going through the treeses And stars were still illumed I have three hearts that I keep apart Trying to relate To normal feelings and the nightime reelings And some absynthe drunk so late The cook got drunk and all the whores they shrunk Onto the size of dessert plates But me I’m happy cause I got my little nappy And some opium to set me straight I’m just a small town girl who wants to give it a whirl While my looks still hold me straight Straight up to illusion and fantasy’s fusion Of reality mixed with drink I’m just a small town girl who’s gonna give life a whirl Looking at the Brandenburg Gate