See they got armchairs in Vienna
where a man would want to die
They got Ludwig Van and garbage cans
where the poets go to cry
in the bowels of some cathedral
you can hear a lazy ghost
scribble out his memoirs
in a dusty petticoat

(Alright)

See they've got gargoyles on the chimneys
and cancer in their bones
the hookers there read Baudelaire atop the cobblestones
they've got rosaries for bracelets
and academic eyes
the ladies work their miniskirts
and gods watch from the skies

(From the skies)
(Alright)

When they found your only daughter
did they lie about the war
did they tell her that her father
was just some drunk conquistador
tonight me and my sweetheart
hope those sons of bitches fry
they've got armchairs in Vienna
and that's where we want to die
yeah they've got armchairs in Vienna
and that's where we want to die

(Wanna die)