Put Me In A Terror Pocket

He spoke a script
Dipped in the sort of talk to
Make you keep the gaze it's all a trick
The slicked back slimy arms have
Got a war to wage

He's got a laugh like a crackling wire
And he wants to put the bite marks on you
He wants to put the bite marks on you
And he twists my guts

As the only thing that's
Repelling as his invitations are his excuses
And he said "I am the conductor
Put me in a terror pocket" he did a stint
Master in a craft
He'd squint through his spectacle
He'd drop a dirty hint if he thinks that
He could impress you with the unacceptable

And he has turned through all
The pages with his fingers
And covered them with goo
And he wants to put the bite marks on you
He wants to put them on you
And it hurts my back

Because the only thing that's as
Heavy as the adoration
Is the days of hanging out on his lawn
And he spilled without a sounding alarm
And he frightened me to death
When he said "I am the conductor