Packed in so tight
Imperative I move
A pheromonal dictate
Find a way to drive this groove
Turn and slam, turn and slam, turn and slam
Don't you find it; a very small place
I'm hard-pressed to know who's
Breath just whispered 'cross my face
It's not the angels on the head of a pin
It's the devil on the tip of your spear
Yeah
(Guitar solo)
All eyes become an eye
Penetrating look so strong
This ghostly flow of current
Revealed in a sea of arms
Turn and slam, turn and slam, turn and slam
Ensemble cast divided by the stage
In heat we melt together; ignited by a gaze
Bed of coals
Bare skin
Bare skin across this bed of coal
Perform exoticism; soak my fever down
In wickedness I'm floating; innocent I drown
Innocent I drown
(Guitar solo)
Hey
Suspected, connected, infected, dissected
And by the door; a sign the visitors aren't reading
"No Rules-Just Consequences Here"
What we say we don't know
Speaks to us in tongues
Silent airborne kisses panting from the lungs
Turn and slam, turn and slam, turn and slam
X-ray tangled bodies find a character in bone
Sanskrit-spelt by fingertips on undulating skin
A volume writ in moans
Perform exoticism; soak my fever down
In wickedness I'm floating; innocent I drown
Innocent I drown
Suspected; not pure enough
Connected; not deep enough
Infected; not clean enough
Dissected; not bare enough
Bed of coals
Burning soles
'Cross bed of coals