Piranha Quickstep 

There was a ghost on the traffic island, a covers band rehearsing in the basement... 
They were always out of tune, but they rocked.. 
And Sally had those cocaine nosebleeds, 
liked giving golden showers to that Italian boy she met out rollerskating at the docks... 
And then there was Jake the Tarantula, gangsta-rapping on the answerphone, 
sent you a valentine he'd scrawled on a Chinese hooker's business card... 
And you danced the piranha quickstep, 
getting hammered in your room on snakebite.. 
and the pizza delivery guy looked like Victor Mature.... 
And I remember the Dragon Boy Johnny, with his washboard belly and tattoos, 
said Kubla Khan was reborn and living inside his TV... 
He painted swastikas on his cheekbones, played squealing brakes in his headphones,
said the nightime sirens were the music of the moon and the stars... 
Over the river the skyscrapers twinkled and the thunder kept me awake. 
I heard that alcoholic punk rocker fucking you next door... 
I felt the city sweat with excitement, I was listening hard at the wall. 
I swear your plasticene Virgin Mary came alive and danced... 
Danced the piranha quickstep.... 
There's birds around the steeple, just like there were that summer.... 
Growing up is such a bummer.....