Catwalk of Spies
The Agency neither confirms nor denies
While booking its models
On the catwalk of spies
That the catwalk of intel is a runway of lies
And everyone poses
On the catwalk of spies
Catwalk of whispers, catwalk of sighs
Catwalk of secrets
Catwalk of spies
Cover is a microskirt flaunting your thighs
With sheer blouse unbuttoned
On the catwalk of spies
And truth’s a pair of pumps, too small by one size
Make sure you don’t stumble
On the catwalk of spies
Covert action is shadow that brings out your eyes
And black ops make you slimmer
On the catwalk of spies
Spy dust is blush the makeup artist applies
And everyone’s airbrushed
On the catwalk of spies
Agents are items you accessorize
You wear each one proudly
On the catwalk of spies
But when the big designer your portfolio buys
And you make that cold read
On the catwalk of spies
In that moment your dress falls, and you realize
Strutting forth naked
On the catwalk of spies
That the passage through which unto light we all rise
That runway of spirit
Is a catwalk of spies
Catwalk of whispers, catwalk of sighs
Catwalk of eternity
Catwalk of spies
Horror Sleaze Trash 