Lube Me Up (For the Camera)

“Mmm, yeah.
Don’t touch that dial, baby.
The show’s just getting dirty.”

[Verse 1]
You can keep your halos and hymns,
I like sweat where the sin begins.
Forget your choir, forget your shame,
I got a stage that knows your name!

C’mon sugar, show that skin,
Lights go low, let the funk crawl in.
Heaven don’t pay and Hell don’t care,
But baby, I bill by the glare!

[Chorus]
Lube me up for the camera, baby!
Let that body roll!
Ain’t no gospel like a moanin’ one,
When I’m savin’ your soul!

Shake that sin for the sinners, honey,
Make the whole floor scream!
Porn’s the purest art I know,
Yeah, I’m livin’ the dream!

[Verse 2]
I sell love in stereo,
Got a thousand fans below.
They don’t need a sermon, baby,
They just need a show!

I’m the king of the red-light sky,
Vox gets jealous, I know why.
He’s stuck with static on his line,
I got flesh, sugar—mine’s divine!

[Bridge – addressing Alastor]

Oh Red, don’t be shy,
You were born to satisfy.
Got that voice, that grin, that grace—
Baby, lemme film your face.

You think radio’s your thing?
Ha! You ain’t seen a king ‘til you make it sing!
I’ll make the world turn red for you,
One frame at a time, sweet déjà vu!

[Chorus – full funk groove]
Lube me up for the camera, baby!
Let that spotlight burn!
Every halo’s outta style,
Time to make ‘em yearn!

Shake that sin, make it sleaze,
Give the angels heart disease!
Porn’s the purest art I know,
C’mon sugar, steal the show!

[Outro – spoken with laughter]
“You can pray to the light,
Or you can dance in it.
But baby…
only one of those pays royalties.”

1970s Funk, Male Vocals