Type O Negative

Hey Bacchus
She hates me
Hey Bacchus
She hates me
The street lamps light a wet old red hook road
A furry vino tinted slave
Molten oil painted brooklyn bridge
(cobblestone grave)
A lonely blue girl guards the river bed
She shakes her brown torch at the tide
On pier six we'd creep and count the cracks
(side by side, see, we're counting cracks)
Your mom was out wearing herself inside
I'll stop the train to say hello