Sweet in winter, sweet in rain
Shake well before use, she said
You never touch me anymore this way
Connector in, receiver out
You let me in through the back door
Ride the sainted rhythms
On the midnight train to Romford
Ride the sainted rhythms
Sweet in winter, sweet in rain
Shake well before use, she said
You never touch me anymore this way
Connector, connector
Connector, connector
You're a connector, connector
Connector, connector
I'm so dirty
And the light blinds my eyes
You're, oh, so dirty
And the light, it blinds my eyes
Here comes Christ on crutches
Call me Wet Trampoline, she said today
Well, I was too busy with my hand
Shake well before use, she said
But you never touch me anymore
I was busy listening for phone sex
Coming through the back door
In skin-tight trunks
And we all went mental and danced
I get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six
To the off-peak electricity
And the light blinds my eyes
And I feel dirty
And the light blinds my eyes
And I feel so shaken in my faith
Here comes Christ on crutches
And here comes another God
Here comes another God
Like a buffalo thunder
With a smell of sugar
And a velvet tongue
And designer voodoo
And I got phone sex to see me through
The emptiness in my 501's
Freeze-dried with a new religion
And my teeth stuffed back in my head
I get my kicks on channel six
The light, it burns my eyes
And I feel so dirty
Here comes Christ on crutches
I will not be confused
Will not be confused
They left me confused
I will not be confused with another man
This pressure of opinions
Lighten up
Listen to your eyes you said
But all I could see was Doris day
In a big screen satellite
Disappearing down the tube hole
On Farringdon Street
With Whiplash Willy, the motor psycho
And the light it burns my eyes
And the light it burns my eyes
Get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six
I get my kicks on channel six

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