MOLLY:
Part-time Siren
Boys drowning in my song
They're hip-wrecked
Pleasured screams
The four o clock hasn't rung
BOYLAN:
The double chambers of my groin
Echo-tingle
With the pa**ing hand of her voice.
Jingle, jingle
I head out
Make a beeline towards my queen
MOLLY:
Sorry funny honey, you're just a ditty in between
My next conquest sings Italian
But of love, he doesn't know the words
Till he sees my shape of lust
And into haggard song he'll bust
BLOOM:
Two barmaids of gold and bronze
Two bard maids compose the song
That loops eternally around my neck
In noose
Four o clock will cut me loose
By then, no hangman in sight
But the thought of their bodies, my eternal first light
MOLLY:
And four o clock and the sailor will come
But the man I need never nears my mists
If only he'd come down from the mast
I want to lay with the future, he with the past
And that is how ghosts are conceived
And that is how ghosts are conceived
Dong
Dong
Dong
Ding.
And the noose came off. He fell to the ground.
But in this freedom, he was more than ever bound
To her sound and her song.
No turning back, the way home is long.