Her Name is X

Is this legal? We have a go! Light the fire!

Got a digital rash from a cheap hotel

She’s a high-speed demon with a story to sell

She whispered "hydroponic" and "legislative fuck"

While I was hosing down the engine of a psychic junk

She’s got a tongue like a lizard on a hot tin stove

Licking up the crumbs of a discount treasure trove

I’m a dumpster-fire dandy in a polyester suit

Trying to find the zipper on the forbidden fruit

Neon cholesterol on a velvet bypass

She’s got a carburetor heart and a glass of sassafras

Slide the greasy spatula under the moon tonight

We’re huffing glitter in the alley of a low-res fight

In the back of the Volvo with a bucket of gin

She’s doing yoga with a safety pin

She said, "Baby, I’m a landslide of erotic debris"

Then she choked a plastic flamingo just to feel free

I’m a hard-wired animal, a gutter-born king

Rubbing up against the rhythm of a broken spring

It’s a filthy little circus in a strobe-light haze

Getting sticky in the kitchen for a couple of days

Neon cholesterol on a velvet bypass

She’s got a carburetor heart and a glass of sassafras

Slide the greasy spatula under the moon tonight

We’re huffing glitter in the alley of a low-res fight

She’s got a microwave tan and a barcode stare

Selling used adrenaline at the county fair

She’s a high-voltage priestess in a latex shroud

Screaming "Liquidate the sunshine!" to a cardboard crowd

I’m a low-rent Casanova with a plastic rose

Trying to pick the lock where the dirty water flows

We’re trading secret handshakes for a bag of vice

In a basement full of static and melted ice

Yeah, the landlord’s screaming through a cardboard tube

Everything is lubricated, even the cube

Give me the filth, give me the grit, give me the chrome

I’m never gonna find my way back home

Where’s the Chorus? (I need a break)

Neon cholesterol on a velvet bypass

She’s got a carburetor heart and a glass of sassafras

Slide the greasy spatula under the moon tonight

We’re huffing glitter in the alley of a low-res fight

Spill the static.

Rub the vinyl.

It’s all organic... and completely final.

Yeah, she’s a masterpiece of bad decisions.

In the key of X.