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Wicked Magician Under the evil insinuations of their leader This Atlantis race became a nation of such Wicked Magicians Well "the soul is dead that slumbers" You said from your shrine of numbers and kites Rock n roll holds all the wonder in the world As we strut about with blowtorches in flight Well twas the dawning of the glam rock race Not in coked out London or Crusing discos in Frisco We were the mighty race Such lovely sunbursts we chased With Gin and tonic and lace Mascara mohawk heroin waif face So kisses all around My darling angel please Get upon your well-worn bourgoises knees And make love to the Wicked Magicians of Glam Want to be slammed? Want to be slammed? Want to be slammed? Into the ocean....... Into the ocean.... Copyright 2007 Beau Phillips From Letras Mania