The Defence Letra - ​black midi

When crowds swarm out doorways

And the streetlamps are lit

One of my disciples

Begins his wandering

In alleys and the main streets

He searches for men

Their virile, pathetic, and lame

Leading them in

To our establishment he starts to cry

Every night

"Prostrate, supine

Well-groomed, divine

Whatever you like

Please, sir, tonight"

Mmm

A brothel is a business no different than a bank

As safe and as formal and sanitary

My girls all destined for Hell

Or so says our priest

But find me a Christian

Who spends as much time on their knees

Closer to God

They honor his glory in the best way

Everyday

Without my aid, they'd be in chains

Or disemboweled in a backstreet lane

I'll stop selling when you stop buying

'Til the end of time you can hear the cry

I'm "prostrate, supine

Well-groomed, divine

Whatever you like

Please, sir, tonight

Follow me tonight"