Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerer of death's construction
In the fields, the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh lord, yeah!
As Arabella
Arabella
Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can't be sure
Arabella's got a seventies head
But she's a modern lover
It's an exploration, she's made of outer space
And her lips are like the galaxy's edge
And her kiss the color of a constellation falling into place
My days end best when this sunset gets itself
Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side
It's much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes
As Arabella
As Arabella
Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can't be sure
That's magic in a cheetah print coat
Just a slip underneath it I hope
Asking if I can have one of those
Organic cigarettes that she smokes
Wraps her lips round the Mexican coke
Makes you wish that you were the bottle
Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like
I just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can't be sure