A Frosty Night in Gothenburg

This is a frosty night in Gothenburg
I hate the chime of your mobile phone
You hold it to your ear like a pillow of defeat
Hidden in your snake-like hair
That aches intensive care

If it's bad enough for me
It's bad enough for you
If it's bad enough for two
It's bad enough for three hundred

Out here on the perimeter there is a fence
Take me to your wizard fan for I'm feeling rather tense
I scarred your requiem with my black eyeliner brush
Your dark eyes piercing
Like huge messianic temples

If it's bad enough for you
It's bad enough for me
If it's bad enough for two
It's bad enough for three hundred
Hundred