Из альбома: Angel Food for Thought
pump, pump, blow the dump
the steaming sewers
take the chance that only chancy chicks would take
and cakewalk home with icy brakes of spiky heels and clicks they make
and walk through your cold neighbourhood
but don't get raped, knock on wood
Martina hobbled home, breathing in time to the sounds of her footsteps on the pavement.
All the houses made hushy, silent sounds because it was a thick night at 3 a.m.
Nobody was around. That's the worst time, a part of her said.
But most of her just said vup, tup, vup, tup, vup, tup
to her swinging legs.
pump, pump, blow the dump
the steaming sewers
take the chance that only chancy chicks would take
and cakewalk home with icy brakes of spiky heels and clicks they make
and walk through your cold neighbourhood
but don't get raped, knock on wood