The Whore Of Babylon
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Lyrics
Mirror tiles, a mirrored ceiling. She preens, adjusts her hair. She pouts, a wink. The perfume stinks, it's lovely, like fresh air. Saints are queuing at the door: their haloes on a chain. They're always after more and more. The whore of Babylon: she turns nobody away. Nobody away. They pay, they play, the ...?... fly. It's never straight - it's on the floor, it's in the kitchen. No-one's ever bored, 'cos the whore of Babylon knows how to make a man feel like a man. Can you?
Audio Features
Song Details
- Duration
- 02:33
- Key
- 9
- Tempo
- 93 BPM