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You're the worst in turn, the first of the night.Who could stand there staring at the blacks of your eyes?What a curious type, reaching out for the iron.To never ask for a slap, but don't indulge in a smile.We're twenty-first dead rats again.You're the worst in turn, the first of the hour.I can feel it creeping on me out of the shower.Like a film on a postcard, a moment entranced, And with the confidence of prom queens insist on me asking.Say it was me, who's getting sick on my jeans, Just as I thought about the part that, "You're such a disease."Go on and call around, after I've been put down.So fucking empty when it hits you'll hear a hollow sound.I'm twenty-first dead rats again. Aus Songtexte Mania