Tv On The Radio

I was a lover, before this war
held up in a luxury suite, behind a barricaded door
now that I've cleaned up, gone legit
I can see clearly: round hole
round whole, square peg don't fit
I'm locked in my bedroom, so send back the clowns
my clone wears a brown shirt, and I seduce him when there's no one around
mano y mano, on a bed of nails
bring it on like a storm, till I knock the wind out of his sails
And we don't make eye contact, when we have run-in's in town
just a barely polite nod, and nervous stares towards the ground
I once joined a priest class, plastic, inert
in a slowdance with commerce
like a lens up a skirt
And we liked to party
and we kept it live