The Candy Man puts out his hand to dance. That’s all you can see, his white and red stripes fox trottin’ in your bloodstream. Spikes keep spikin’, long as you get your sugar fix at the end of the night, it’s all right.
He don’t mean nothing bad by it, no baby, he don’t mean nothing by it at all.
Hours tick on and he’s got your fish lips hooked up to his sugar drip, suckle away baby at that bait till it dries oh. It ain’t gonna dry if you keep suckling steady baby; supply’s always gonna flow with demand. Flows by like it has for hours at a time, 19 on the first night, then five, six, seven, sixty one days pass by and now its truly something baby but now its time for the Candy man to bounce, his sugars run out baby, it spiked too fast.
The Candy Man’s got you hooked sweet cheeks. You keep on sucklin through your torn skin, those yellow molars rotting but there aint nothing to suckle so lick your own sugar coated teeth, sweet licks, lick lick lick lick, rotting you can’t taste nothin’ else, his sugars too sweet, sweet cheeks.
No time for the Candy Man to ween his customer off, no he’s bounced to the next ball, stretches out his hand, ‘Wanna dance?’
Her teeth cracked like sugar rock, dribbling now red and brown and yellow liquid particles swirl on that bib like some Francis Bacon canvas, there’s no going back baby, wait for that next supplier, when’s he gonna come?
Sweet cheeks don’t take no more candy from those smiling strangers. She takes it anyway