Tiny plasmic beings intermingle
Some inhabit the dance floor
The killer plague is upon us
And streets of bone lead to your home

You want to dance
You want to die

The life you live is leaving you
You scream
You stop (cellos are eating violins)
And the room is spinning with cannibal string instruments

The moon is red
The moon is blue

Skeletal pyramids arise all around
Maggot studded corpses go shopping
No one is safe no one can run
On the blue light special

My head is on
My head is off

Skeletal beings in the street
All going to the produce section of your
     local grocery store
They all want to buy some old rotten meat
To make a party fondue

They'll fondue me
They'll fondle you