Rascals Freakbeat Phantom
Resting himself on his crutches,
suspicious stories which are fake
Laughter was growing around
in a stranger's sound
Holding his stutter in his hands
and carving his words to demands
Psychotic byonic he was
as he splutters his words
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
Confusion cuts in the air,
if I was granted one wish
I'd whisk off the girl
with the white jeans
for a singles night's bliss
Revising thoughts of stately homes
as the party continues
The bright lights eluminates the,
the freakbeat eluminates the night
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding
Ooh-oh-ho-oh
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
Touched by the freakbeating phantom,
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on
I'm holding on