Dead Boy

Hitch a ride on St. Peters cross
Hitch a ride on St. Peters cross
Clever knock on the head
And I
I am
Can’t tell you why I’m late
Rather be dead than in bed
Your lovely heads open
Blood gushing
And face in the can
I always
Eat the apple of both my eyes
Make up’s little children’s drawings
I’m an odd period in happy lives
At the service they’ll surely say
Lovely man a perfect lie
Caught a tan from the devils desire
He wouldn’t make it here alive
Hitch a ride on St. Peters cross
Caught a ride on St. Peters cross
Put a thumb in the air
And I smile for you all
Dead boy dead
Dead boy dead
Dead