What a rush
Up into the passageway of American fame
I can’t think of any other means to get by
Neither can my Elizabeth

Everyone knows I’m her friend
Everyone knows I’m her man

Bring your sister
Wives
Daughters
If you think you can handle it
Tommy likes the way she holds him
Makes you crawl—dollar bill beggar

And is it true
That the devil ends up like this?
Make something safe for the picture frame
A kick of diamond septum
Fizzy bullet in the brain

She’s your *******
Got your Stepford’s skating the edge
Of something sweeter than domesticity
Cities gotta give
Let in a little bite
Hot
Wind

Cut it again.