Words and music by Michael Koppelman
Sick
It is sick, that old trick
It’s a twisted, fucked up sin
Sick like a porno flick, that slowly draws you in
It is profane and perverse, like a sexy Satan verse
You’re lonely in a way that just makes you want to play
You are sick
It is sick, what you lick
It is horny to the hilt
Sick like that needle prick and drop of blood you spilt
It is dark, unholy lust that just makes you wanna bust
It’s dirty in a way, that just makes you play and play
You are sick
Michael Koppelman: Electric guitar, vocals
Kurt Koppelman: Bass
Andrew Deckard: Drums, percussion
Stephe Mayone: Electric guitar
Recorded at Tricord Studios, Minneapolis MN
© 1995 Tribe of Angels (ASCAP)