Transmaniacon MC

Good evening, everyone, London people We're Blue Oyster Cult, and we are very glad To be playing blues Oyster Cult, here we go One, two, three, four With Satan's hog no pig at all and the weather's getting dry We'll head south from Altamont in a cold-blood traveled trance So clear the road, my bully boys and let some thunder pass We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives, we're transmaniacon MC Behind the pantry, behind the tree, the ghouls adopt that child Whose name resound forever, whose name resounds in terror And I'm no fool to call that hog, 'cause, man, I remember To those who would resign their souls to transmaniacon MC And surely we did offer up behind that stage at dawn Beers and barracuda, reds and monocaine, yeah Pure nectar of antipathy behind that stage at dawn To those who would resign their souls to Transmaniacon MC Cry the cable, cry the word, unknown terror's here And won't you try this tasty snack behind the scene or but the back Which was the stage at Altamont, my humble boys of listless power We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives, we're transmaniacon Come on give me a willie now