well the witches stare with their limbs akimbonsilhouettes of statues up in the windowncall me to come here with a crooked crescendonbut i don'tnndevotees dance among the fancy minds on the promenadeninto a tabernacle on the lawnnbut i don't follownnbecause she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all minenyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnnmidnight moved across the people's parknand i fled the fire like a spinning sparknup on to a porch in the darknshe was waiting right there for mennshe knows that my hands are emptynas i go past the mothers of envynand i don't have to fumble in the dark for my keysnni believe she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all minenyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnnthe pupils gather in the yardnaround the pulpit made of cardsnand waited for their leader's wordsnbut his words didn't make much sensennhis mouth spat out a fist of daggersnand his tongue swirled in a southern swaggernand i looked at all the people gatherednbut they were all in a trancennand she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all minenyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnni was thrown before the court of canesntossed my soul to the furnace flamesnwhere all my heros had been slain, exiled, or put in prisonnnbecause they rose above the messnand because their power posed a threatnand because they spoke of something elsenwhen everybody else didn'tnnthe music fills the space betweennthe deities and the propheciesnof our bodies pressed endlesslynsilent in the sandnnshe looks at me so fearlesslynand i take it all too seriouslynbut it all becomes so clear to menand makes me understandnnthat she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, all minenyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnnyeah she's mine, all mine, all mine, all minenyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnnyeah she's mine, mine, mine, mmmnyeah she's minen