I've been standing outside this sports bar
for what seems like two years
and a nice young man says he has a new god
$50 even to meet him
but I know if his god were to help me
he'd first rob me blind, to teach humility.

Neon lights flash on my face
changing skintone like a chameleon
and I'm not allowed in 'cause I can't allow myself
to sink into that false happiness.
A nice young man says he knows the town
but his car is too nice to be peddling tours
then he tells me he'll sell me slices of heaven
a lock of hair and a favor is the low going price.

The street is dirty and I'm wishing
for a quick fix someplace
but the nice young men and their heavens and gods
are all death in disguise,
and I know him well;
the most handsome of all until you realize
you're tied up in his trunk
and you're never going to leave.