Baby Eyes

Year of the rat, last of the litter
Somebody shot the babysitter
They say my middle name is 'danger'
The kind you keep away from strangers
I say whoa, I’m out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say whoa, God rest your fucking soul
Cause baby, baby, I was born to kill
I pulled the trigger for the shooting stars
I am the motor in your crashing car
I am the cherub and the Arab spring
I am the bullet in your magazine
I say whoa, I’m out of control
Well, baby, when I see your pretty face
I say whoa, God rest your fucking soul
Cause baby-baby eyes, well, baby-baby eyes
Well, baby, baby, I was born to kill!