It has a feeling it hasn't stripped off its crab's skin
And
Something lies beneath its shadow waiting in the moonlight
To
Flatter its liars - the candle, the rainbow, the ash-tray
Oh
To be servile seems so inviting, so altruistic, so perfect
Yet
It cleanses itself of fancy purity, disillusioning righteousness
By
Throwing away the you and me, the right the wrong, the black the white
So
Rise above, Citrus Child - your sourness alienates you well
And
Something lies beneath its shadow waiting in the moonlight
To
Flatter its liars - the candle, the rainbow, the ash-tray
Oh
To be servile seems so inviting, so altruistic, so perfect
Yet
It cleanses itself of fancy purity, disillusioning righteousness
By
Throwing away the you and me, the right the wrong, the black the white
So
Rise above, Citrus Child - your sourness alienates you well