A deity
Slumped down in his throne
Angels in periphery
But a devil down to his bones
I know you're looking for trouble
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble, trouble
I know what you're looking for
The smell of gasoline
Lying heavy in the air
Nitroglycerin
Volatile and the devil may care
I know you're looking for trouble
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble, trouble
I know what you're looking for
Reciting your Poe poetry
And dog earring a tattered Dostoyevsky
While spinning an extensive Presly
With your slicked back hair and your sinister stair
You're burning a hole through the soul of me
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble
Trouble, trouble
I know what you're looking for