Venus in Chrome

These poems are dirty
 And the philosopher is stoned
 (He's not alone)
 The goddess is hungry
 Oh, but her priest, he will not come
 (He's had his fun)
 Birch, rowan, ash, and oak
 Molten words out of silver throats
 Feast or famine, fight or flee
 Peasants, pheasants
 And the devil makes three
 Oh, Venus in chrome, where did you go (Ahhh)
 How you could leave now that I know (Ahhh)
 So cruel to give and take away (Ahhh)
 Appear from this flame and always stay
 Nomad is sleepin'
 While worms whisper in the dark
 (It's of you they talk)
 The library is bleedin'
 There is no time for last remarks
 (So let the panic start)