there's a smart young woman
on a light blue screen
who comes into my house
every night
she takes all the red, yellow, orange and green
and she turns them into black and white
CHORUS:
but you tease you flirt
and you shine all the buttons
on your green shirt
you can please yourself
but somebody's gonna get it
better cut off all identifying labels
before they put you on the torture table
'cause somewhere in the quisling clinic
there's a short time typist taking seconds over minutes
she's listening in to the venus line
she's picking out name
I hope none of them are mine
chorus
never said I was a stool pigeon
I never said I was a diplomat
everybody is under suspicion
but you don't want to hear about that
chorus
better send the begging letter
to the big investigation
who put these fingerprints
on my imagination
chorus
