Strike Blind! - Sex Gang Children

Jews for Jesus, for God’s sake

I’ll be damned, I’ll strike blind

I’m rated as a dog, that’s a poor choice

But I’ll take it, I’ll scrape it, and I’ll fake it

Holding your tongues for the rest of the world

Get up on the table, give up your ass

This is how I like you, strike blind

Shake in bed, rage in bed

Cage or else, I’ll strike blind

Sweet tongue in roses and tungsten steel poses

All in a working man’s day

I remember those days in September

And the bogeys cried chaos

If you swing by the string

And they know where you’ve been

Don’t forget to tell them you saw me

No don’t stare at the men who drink to the men

The men with the guns in their bellies

And you scorn at the girls with their breasts pressed hard

Pressed hard up against the window

And I’ll kiss you goodbye with a tear in your clothes

And the memory of killing so many

Young and lusty and jumping jack, move without pain

But only at your bidding

So get up, you horse, when you feel the earth quake

Sweet tongue in roses, and tungsten steel poses

All in a working man’s day

I remember those days in September

And the bogeys cried chaos

If you swing by the string and they know where you’ve been

Don’t forget to tell them you saw me

No don’t stare at the men who drink to the men

The men with the guns in their bellies

Yes it’s doctors who die of brain tumours

And you have the teeth of a carnival promoter

And I’ll kiss you goodbye with a tear in your clothes

And the memory of killing so many

How is my chou-chou, oh where are you now?

Yes I’m sometimes a jew, but always a nigger

In innocence and guilt, I’ll strike blind!

The bitch that bore you is on heat again

She is the kind that wins, when the terrible price is paid

Honey-bane, all over again

Throw your money on the floor

Throw back your head, and strike blind!

I’ll kick them and tear them, I will never spare them

Is love like a killer’s den?

If you swing by the string, shout and tell them you saw me

And my mother’s a target if they pay me enough

And my conscious died with my father

Yes it’s doctors who die of brain tumours

And you have the teeth of a carnival promoter

Well I Kiss you good-bye, if they pay me enough

if they pay me enough, I’ll strike blind!

And you scorn at the girls with their breasts pressed hard

Pressed hard up against the window

No don’t stare at the men who drink to the men

The men with the guns in their bellies

Yes it’s doctors who die of brain tumours

And you have the teeth of a carnival promoter

And I’ll kiss you goodbye with a tear in your clothes

And the memory of killing so many