E 022100
LEAD RIFF
IN THE BACKGROUND OF THE CHORUSES (TREM PICKING)
In her youth she made tons of pence
ghost-penning songs for big hair aristocrats.
Now she lies in a plush, velvet bed,
shaped like a coffin and filled with bats.
And she is pale and I am smitten
And everything's good and everything's fine
and everything's bitter like sweet things should be,
my sweet heartkiller,