They say that you’ve got poison in your skin
And that’s ’cause you’re made of fine plastic
They say that you’ve got a divine touch
And whoever touches you keeps it
And if tonight you want to go dancing
Start putting on your sinner costume
But you’ll have to be ready in half an hour
Because if not, I’m not coming to pick you up
But first you want to go have dinner
And you suggest that I take you to an expensive place
To see whether they accept the unemployment card
Because if not, we’ll have to steal it
I start doing the math in my head
And you lavish your smile with care
And you set about insulting the waiter
And you splash me with beer foam
And here I wait for you at the bar counter
While you go clubbing
If you overdo it, I’m warning you, babe
That this time I’m not going to rescue you
You think that you’re a consummate witch
And what’s happening is that you’re intoxicated
And yet you say that you don’t take anything anymore
But they tell me around here: “Yes, yes
Yes, yes, and they say, they say
They say that you’ve got poison in your skin
And that’s ’cause you’re made of fine plastic
They say that you’ve got a divine touch
And whoever touches you keeps it
You say that I’m not your ideal man
While you flip casually through a magazine
And I ask myself whether you’ll have some clue
Or some photo of your “perfect match”
You think that you’re a consummate witch
And what’s happening is that you’re intoxicated
And yet you say that you don’t take anything anymore
But they tell me around here: “Yes, yes
Yes, yes, and they say, they say
They say that you’ve got poison in your skin
And that’s because you’re made of fine plastic
They say that you’ve got a divine touch
And whoever touches you keeps it