The King Is Dead

Let red wine flow like water in the creek
Cabernet Sauvignon or whatever you seek
Let cigarettes burn like trees in the forest
Parliament or something for the poorest

The eyes, the eyes of sin
Have no end nor beginning
That's the beauty of sinning

The less is more fixation will never flex
To the state where simplicity is complex
And thus I accept my eternal fate
Of being nothing more than live bait

The eyes, the eyes of sin
Will terrorise the next of kin
God will never win

Melancholy will not get me far
I am anything but a star
Trapped in a pool of sticky tar
Trying to breath inside a jar

The eyes, the eyes of sin
Have no meaning at all
Into sin we all fall

Cater me with passion fruit
Dress me in a latex suit
Give me a pair of leather boots
And a licence to shoot
Myself in the head
Because Elvis is dead