Wylde Bitch

outside of finley
By thirty-five clicks
there's a scream on the stereo
my head's filled with picks
I've got seventy pills
for seventeen hours
and I'm shaking like an imbiciele
succumbed to your powers
I said, wild bitch
you make my heart itch
you make everything possible
you fill me with holes
them holes they need filling
some blood, it needs spilling
you're one bad samaratine
you're wild to the bone
She'll have your eye out
she'll spit in your face
She'll howl in the darkness,
your art she'll deface
She'll crawl 'round the living room
She'll smash your perfume
She'll break all the nice things your body exumed

I said, wild bitch, you make my heart itch
you make everything possible,
you fill me with holes,
them holes, they need filling
you're one bad samaritine
you're wild to the bone

she had away with me
then sent me on my way
and I left quite happily
bleeding and raw
went down to the local
and sat drinking voka
staring down at my reflection, and the sh** on the wall
and I felt quite contented, and all I lamented
was that I lack the dicipline not to ask for more

I said, Wild bitch, you make my heart itch
you make my heart itch
you make everything possible
you fill me with holes
them holes they need filling,
some blood it needs spilling
you're one bad samaratine
you're wild to the bone
x2