Text: 2*sweet. Tarantula Perfume.

Hypnotic eyes
Staring at you through the dead of night
Take refuge in the trees
And beg please
Oh please just let me survive
This is my kind of place
Where creatures crawl under your skin
And everywhere are claws like blades
That cut you when your soul is saved

Oh you would, wouldn't you
Trade tour daggers in for tarantula perfume
They could have come in use
Through the next clearing lies your impending doom
This is my kind of place
Where creatures crawl under your skin
And everywhere are claws like blades
That cut you when your soul is saved

Your soul is saved only if you say
Call me the king of design
With no specific plans in mind
Step right up, step right up
Test your luck, test your luck
Dive right in, dive right in
This sea of flesh is sink or swim

You can call me the king of design
With no specific plans in mind
We're all a part of this traveling show
We're all a part of this traveling show
With nowhere to go
We're all a part of this traveling show
We're all a part of this traveling show
With nowhere to go

This is my kind of place
Where creatures crawl under your skin
And everywhere are claws like blades
That cut you when your soul is saved