I’ll cup your neck like a cup o’ joe. Yeah, warm and sweet and soft and slow. Or pinch it, swish, get the smell and down like wine. But if bourbon’s the mood a short shot takes no time.
The shot will be a stab. The kiss, a killer’s kiss. The grab will be a stab. The kiss, a killer’s kiss.
I wanna be a pal. There are confidantes few with ears so open and hands so true. You can count on me but watch your math. If you don’t carry this one I’m a wiz at subtracting.
The cut will come in a flesh, just like a killer’s kiss. The grab will be a stab. The kiss, a killer’s kiss.
So purse your lips, and close your eyes. Feel your heels rise and fall to the killer’s kiss.
So purse your lips, and close your eyes. Take in the quick breath of traitor caught. The killer’s kiss.
You think I’m blind to you midnight moves. Well my sites are set – infrared hot mood. Mistakes can be made; If you only knew. The knife would turn those red lips blue.
Turn around, see the headlight’s glare from the killer’s kiss. The grab will be a stab. The kiss, a killer’s kiss.