Icicle Tusk

I'll shoot you dead for the father

Of the coal miner's daughter

Beneath the icicle tusk

You and me among the flattering dusk

In my haste, I draw my weapon

Designing your final lesson

As you recede to the floor

All is silent, but the fluttering door

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh

Twenty-five grand on the table

Of the high wall, street stable

I'm not responsible for

The reputation

Of the neighborhood whore

But I'm a keyhole peeker

And you're my surveillance keeper

And though my memory rusts

I will always see the icicle tusk

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh

And I must admit

That it get lonesome on my shelf

This much I can tell

This much I can tell