Pop Thomas Ti
Maniac

I filmed you in the park
With friends and pug Plutarch
You phoned your beau and laughed
And got him autographed

I've got your phone
I've got your smile
I've got your dog

You ran a chic cafe
I saw your home each day
And when you had a date
I entered your estate

I've got your dress
I've got your shoes
I've got your bra

Was writing love songs on your bedroom wall
The back door creaked and you walked to the hall

Fright;
I took to flight, I had to hide
I had to flee to go scot-free

The beach rests in moonshine
Tonight you're wholly mine
A spade is in my hand
You're lying in the sand

I've got your nails
I've got your hair
I've got your heart

Police are looking for the maniac

Fright;
I take to flight, I have to hide
I have to flee to go scot-free
I take to flight, I have to hide
I have to flee to go scot-free