Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!

I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
I reckon if I touch it might just burn
Flesh-heads like me just wax and melt
When my tongue touches titty's tongue in turn
Sometimes pleasure heads must burn

Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!

My brain tricked my hands to believe they were strong
In short, my hands became clubs to grind
I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
Kiss me darling, kiss my eyes to blind
Kiss my clubs and witness what my knuckles find

Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!
Bu-u-u-u-u-u-rn! pop! pop!

(?) I may burn in hell!
Buried neck-high in British snow
I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one
Kiss me honey, shoot me in the brains and go
Pop! pop!