Uh huh, oh yeah
Uh huh, oh yeah
Uh huh, uh huh
Truth hurts, yes it does
Sometimes I hurt you, baby, just because
Emotions defaulting on their loans
You spend the rest of your days alone, alone
Now, she's the queen of the bad dogs
She's the rumbling siren in the fog
And i'm the king of the submarines
Making horrible music for teens
You'll see me in your psychic visions
You'll feel me in your psychic visions
When you're going crazy
Oh, yeah (I feel it...)
Mistrust
You walk around looking for answers
And all the gypsies are stroking romancers
Tarot cards and chills to the bone
You're crushed under the weight of the great unknown
And she's the queen of the queen bees
She's coming on the next junk from Belize
I see her dancing in the Latin Quarter
Abbreviations make everything shorter
It's time you feel my psychic visions
It's time you see my psychic visions
I love to hear what your premonitions and sloppy incisions
Let's surround ourselves with the worst musicians
And they're writing this song
Oh, yeah
(Oh, psychic visions)
Oh, yeah
(Oh, psychic visions)
See your shrink if you're having doubt
Because the songs in your love line are running out
Gypsy woman rattle and shake for me
Gypsy woman rattle and shake for me
