| Lyrics |
There's lots of things in a human head
That I hope I never have to touch.
She likes the taste of burning flesh,
Cannibals eat their love.I'm a sucker for romantic stuff.
She peeled the skin right off her face
And left it lying on the bathroom floor.I put it into my suitcase,I couldn't leave it like that.
Just in case she wants it back.
Joan of arc keeps burning up.
It's hard to go out with a saint,
Who's french and comes from france.I start to scream I almost faint.
She's got the stigmata,I want the stigmata.I give her a marlboro cigarette.
She starts to smoke and smoke and smoke,
Sometimes even saints forget.I don't want to sound like a fascist,
But it's wrong to play with matches.
Joan of arc keeps burning up.
Joan of arc,
You hot little catholic bitch oooh.
You're a martyr from france,I'm just an average guy from new jersey.
But we have fire, burning, heat oooh.
You've got the stigmata,I want the stigmata.
Joan of arc keeps burning up.
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