I would cut my legs and tits off

When I think of Boris Karloff and Kinski

In the dark of the moon

It made me dream of Nosferatu

Trapped on the isle of Doctor Moreau

Oh wouldnt it be lovely

I was thinking Peter Lorre

When things got pretty gory as I

Crossed to the Brandenburg Gate

I was feeling snappy perhaps Id been napping

And Id just ate

A following heart can tear you apart

On a midnight to 8 shift

A graveyard romance can only give one chance

As the tombstones weave and breathe

Feeling happy when my heart got beating

On a Sunday afternoon

I dreamt of breezes going through the treeses

And stars were still illumed

I have three hearts that I keep apart

Trying to relate

To normal feelings and the nightime reelings

And some absynthe drunk so late

The cook got drunk and all the whores they shrunk

Onto the size of dessert plates

But me Im happy cause I got my little nappy

And some opium to set me straight

Im just a small town girl who wants to give it a whirl

While my looks still hold me straight

Straight up to illusion and fantasys fusion

Of reality mixed with drink

Im just a small town girl whos gonna give life a whirl

Looking at the Brandenburg Gate