Yeah you look good in that black light,
Clothes gold like a mirror,
Wanna see my reflection.
Your hands up like a question,
Wanna get close,
Whisper something awful,
I don't think the sugar cube told it to me.
I know when they come to dig us up,
I know what they'll find:
Skeletons dancing,
At the scene of the crime.
Think I know what you're thinking:
I run my mouth too much.
"That's low-pH talk. Big visions, huh?"
Yeah well I see plastic and glass in shards,
Actinides, twisted steel rebar.
They're gonna know us by the hell of it,
In that groove like a burial,
Do you get down to it?
