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I made The Spike about nine o'clock on a Saturday
All eyes hit me as I walked into the door
Them steel and leather guys were fooling with the denim dudes
A couple cops playin rough stuff, New York，Fire island
I cased the joint, straining at the seams
I moseyed up to the counter and the 'tender came a-grinnin
I slapped the smile off his face and scowled "Give me a bourbon"
The mirror on the wall was collecting and reflecting
All the heavy bodies ducking, stealing, eager for some action
The scene screwed me up, I saw such contact
Then the big boys, saw me and knew that
I'd had too much, floating around
Statues alive, seconds are hours
solo
Sex was like a hurricane, it ravaged and it shattered
I was barely holding on to his flying body symphony
I guess I dream in pictures, not colors
The true free expression I demand is human rights - RIGHT
I hate my life, I am an actor
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
I'm going, no loss
Nightmare, just a bunch of goddamn, rotten, steaming, raw deal
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