Pound me the witch drums, witch drums
Pound me the witch drums
Pound me the witch drums, the witch drums
Better pray for hell, not hallelujah
I'm the curled up fists
Dead and hardened spiders
Like two mangled crowns
On the white heads of the meanest coiled snakes
Folks say that I
Look like Death
Lived in the hotel of my eyes
Blinds wide open like a whore
Paid in spit from that hearse between her thighs
Keep your halos tight
I'm your god or your guardian
Keep your halo tight
One hand on the trigger, the other hand in mine
Because now
Cupid carries a gun
Now, now
Cupid, Cupid carries a gun
She had those crow-black eyes
Starless, but she fucked like a comet
She laid as still as a Bible
And it felt like Revelations when I looked inside