Lyle's got his parties now
And he's hanging out with a whole new
Crowd of kids who
Sleep late and wake up to get down
And they roll
And they roll, roll, roll
Lyle's parties never fail
To impress the daughters of a certain
Cult of men who
Pull puppet strings behind puppet scenes
And they pull
And they pull, pull, pull
Well he's been keeping vampire hours
Skipping three meals and missing on showers
Living off candy and poppy flowers
People don't know his name like his lovers do
People don't know his name like his lovers do
Like his lovers do...
The day was long
But the work is done
The setting sun drapes
A curtain of red velvet
The night it brings
The darker things
Which wig where Lyle wams
It's his death he's sure of it
No remorse for not charting the course
Through the trials of the eye
No regrets for not setting the set
Through the trials of the smiles which lie
There's a white room
Where white men
Wear white ties
And they look into the whites of your eyes
Oh how they peer into
In the white room
Where white tiles
Match white smiles
But the teeth are little white lies
Oh how they fib to you
But you don't let them in
Do you? Do you?
Do you? Do you?