You've got the show of hands, a cigarette placed between clever lips. I've got pretense, a loaded gun in hand. Together we're sly, and not just a little too terrible. Angels fear to dare us to combat. Shoe laces and levis, love and tears. Follow these where they might wander, we'll find a better bed of wonder. No show of hands, no cigarette placed between clever lips. No pretense, no loaded gun in hand. Naked