his backlit silhouette's filled with tales   glowing of charming fucker   she's a charming fucker himself ya know?   his haunting outline's fillin' in with details    I'm real proud of   he should be real proud of them himself   I've gotta stop listening to suicidal songwriters   not that I'm gettin' ideas   it's just that they bring me down   as deep as this low slung guitar   bow your pretty head   pray to me, yeah pray to me   you need a god so bad   don'tcha baby   yeah   pray to me   yeah   pray   to me   I'm the fire that burns on shadows darker than moods he's swingin'   you see I'm a charming fucker myself   ya know?   He came to me on a Saturday night   and he felt the old religion   he knelt before me numb and blind and sighed   Don't stop listenin' to suicidal songwriters   it's not a bad idea   swinging hard and low like this guitar   bow your pretty head....watch how they surround her   stealing what he knows belongs to only him   leave her as you've found her   bleeding for your every sin   smiling with her sinful grin   selfish fools can't take her in   her tragic heart belongs to him   Now bow your pretty head....