Cocaine Diana

Mirror in my bedsit bathroom

pulling nails out of my head

Lucy's on my shoulder

talking like she owns the dead

so you wanna be my soldier

and to ride your own shooting star

I'll see you on your back in twelve boy

and I'll fly you where the moon is dark

in three you get your snow white sandbox

chariot and golden fleece

give 'em anything that'll make 'em scream

to a funky pumping beat

in six you're up to sugar daddy

the mansion full of beautiful girls

in nine you're the new messiah

playing Messaline on fire

in twelve it's not a pretty sight

and she's nowhere to be seen

I could come around a full moon later

but I was never much of a waiter

so I'm off to dedicate my life

to the death of rock 'n roll

no-one gets their money back

and I just keep my soul