That Black Bat Licorice

　　That Black Bat Licorice-Jack White

　　What?

　　Behave yourself

　　Behave yourself

　　You need to behave yourself, boy

　　Yeah, she's built for speed like a black castrum doloris

　　Good for the needy, like Nietzsche, Freud and Horace

　　But I'm skin, flint, broke, making no money, making jokes

　　But baby, I won't joke with you

　　My feet are burning like a Roman hypocaust

　　But the Romans are gone, they changed their name because they lost

　　She writes letters like a Jack Chick comic

　　Just a bunch of propaganda, make my fingers histrionic; like this, and this

　　I mean, she's my baby

　　But she makes me get avuncular

　　And when my monkey is jumping

　　I got no time to make it up to her

　　I fantasize about the hospital

　　The army, asylum, confinement in prison

　　Any place where there's a cot to clear my vision

　　I spit it out

　　Whatever's in my mouth

　　Just like that Black Bat Licorice

　　Yeah, that Black Bat Licorice

　　That Black Bat Licorice

　　That Black Bat Licorice

　　Yeah

　　I wanna cut out my tongue and let you hold onto it for me

　　Cause without my skull to amplify my sounds it might get boring

　　I've got the wit of the staircase with atomic clock precision

　　And the phases of the moon directing all of my decisions like this

　　When I need to know, I play dumb like Columbo

　　And get my feelings hurt and move to NY like I'm Dumbo

　　Don't you want to lose the part of the brain that has opinions?

　　To not even know what you are doing,

　　or care about yourself or your species in the billions

　　Yeah, I have to spit it out

　　Oh, whatever's in my mouth

　　I have to spit it out (behave your self)

　　Just like that Black Bat Licorice

　　That Black Bat Licorice

　　That Black Bat Licorice, I never liked it, I never will

　　Now state the same damn thing with the violin

　　Whatever you feed me

　　I feed you right back

　　But it will do no good