When the champagne cork rocks the chandelier

All is see is polka dots and jelly tots
as i follow the trail of your bubble blower
into the the garden of black and white noir
I'll be the cop and you'll be the robber

I'll pack away the lightening,
the rolling thunder and crashing clouds
its been sometime since you undone that lock
and slipped a rainbow out of your rainbow box

By the colour of your lips
its clear that you haven't kicked your habit...
painting the tears on the clowns face
your air to the devils throne
take me home
unpack my bones

slip on my skin and I'll have a blow of your bubble blower
slip out my sin and my hands are tremembling
slip on my skin and I'll have a blow of your bubble blower
slip out my sin and stigmata is burning

When the champagne cork rocks the chandlier
we always know the end is near
when the champagne cork rocks the chandlier
tears on my clown i painted