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 wouldn’t 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 I’d been napping
   And I’d 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 I’m happy cause I got my little nappy
   And some opium to set me straight
   I’m just a small town girl who wants to give it a whirl
   While my looks still hold me straight
   
   Straight up to illusion and fantasy’s fusion
   Of reality mixed with drink
   I’m just a small town girl who’s gonna give life a whirl
   Looking at the Brandenburg Gate