I been losing my head

I been losing my way

Been losing my brain cells

At a million a day

I'm so disillusioned

I'm on Suicide Street



I seen everything

In every shape

Seen 1994 in a terrible state

Seen you Quazimodo

Hanging on my gate



Oh! He was so hung-up and wasted

Oh! He was so physically devastated

He was young enough

He was well-slung enough



I seen my own epitaph

I been to heaven and back

Was introduced to St Peter

We was having a chat

I felt him losing his mind

I began to retreat



But Desdemona and me

We had a ball in a tree

She read my palm in a moment

It was shocking to me

We were so mystified

We scream out of fear



Oh! She was so hung-up and wasted

Oh! She was so physically devastated

She was young enough

She was well-slung enough



Destroyed



I been writing a song

We all been singing along

It's like a mild schizophrenia

Wondering where we belong

Sling it all out the window

Start all over again



Oh! Come into my heart

Come and tear me apart

Wanna be claustrophobic

Got a passion, ha, ha!

I'm so confused

I wish I could die, die, die



Oh! she was so hung-up and wasted

Oh! she was so physically devastated

She was young enough

She was well-slung enough