(Sometimes) Pleasure Heads Must Burn

Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 I reckon i'm a bit too close to this one
 I reckon if i touch it might just burn
 Flesh-heads like me just wax and melt
 When my tongue touches titty's tongue in turn
 Sometimes pleasure heads must burn
 Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 My brain tricked my hands to believe they were strong
 In short, my hands became clubs to grind
 I reckon i'm a bit too close to this one
 Kiss me darling, kiss my eyes to blind
 Kiss my clubs and witness what my knuckles find
 Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 I feel a little low, you know what i mean?
 Buried neck-high in british snow
 I reckon i'm a bit too close to this one
 Shoot me darling, shoot me in the head and go
 Ya! ya! teeth gone. follow my trail back home.
 Ya! ya! teeth gone. follow my trail back home.
 Ya! ya! bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
 Etcetera.