Hell’s Bells

I heard her name climbing down
The cross-universe grapevine
Yeah, some off-planet beauty pageant
Found she was a spy
A real Dr. No
With a weaponised nine-incher
And push-button blusher
That does some past-hour memory wipe
She has a Steppenwolf soundtrack
And an indicative patch of, like
What pack’s command she adheres to
She’s got a mind like mud
And all her personalities
Fragmented and formed
Additional supergroups

She’s a fistful of edible dynamite
In dust bowl drama spray-on tights
And Bananarama doing back-up vocals
All the time I heard her hell’s bells
When she was sitting on the carpet
Throwing flaming darts
Into a pit of moving targets
When long term love
Takes a sly extended fag break
Grab your jacket, baby
I’ll keep the clam case

Everybody’s talking Like a comeback’s on the cards
I’m at a loss so far, I don’t know where to start
Maybe if we rewound back to the break-up part
Do you have an adaptor baby, for a scart lead?
She told me she’d wait
If I sandpapered my superego down a little bit
But without which am I enough?
Or just a black denim jacket
And a lack of a haircut?
Hell’s Bells
Hell’s Bells