I made The Spike about nine o'clock on a Saturday
All eyes hit me as I walked into the bar
Them steel and leather guys were fooling with the denim dudes
A couple cops playing rough stuff, New York, Fire Island
I cased the joint, straining at the seams
I moseyed up to the counter and the tender came a-grinnin'
I snapped the smile off his face and snarled: Give me a bourbon
The mirror on the wall was collecting and reflecting
All the heavy bodies ducking, stealing, eager for some action
The scene screwed me up, I saw some contact
Then the big boss saw me and knew that
I'd had too much, floating around
Statues alive, seconds are hours
Sex like a hurricane, it's ravaging and shattering
I was barely holding on to this flying body, symphony
I guess I dream in pictures, not colours
The true free expression I demand is human rights, right?
I came alive, I am immortal
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
Nightmare, just a bunch of goddamn rotten, steaming
Raw Deal
