| Like some girl in a snuff video
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| With a chord around her neck
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| And her veins full of blow
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| She’s dancing like she doesn’t know
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| That she’s hanging in the morgue with industrial
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| So gothed out like «black number 1»
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| She’d rather slit her wrists than have some fun
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| Shaking her corpse to the same old shit
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| Playing it safe is boring, isn’t it?!
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| Oi! |
| Mr. DJ, what records are ya playin' today
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| Oi! |
| Mr. DJ, are you gonna play the same damn thing that you did yesterday
|
| This ghetto
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| Abysmal
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| Like gangstas
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| In limbo
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| Creation
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| Invasion
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| A fortress
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| A mission
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| Arrested
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| Infested
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| This corpse has been re-animated
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| Pale embrace in a sick romance
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| It’s dead and gone but still they all dance
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| Every day is Halloween
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| But it’s Halloween stuck in '93
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| And it makes me think of the good old days
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| Of skinny puppy and ministry
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| Combat boots and pvc
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| Dressing up like a scary drag queen
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| It’s dead and gone, so let’s move on
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| Industrial R.I.P
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| If yer lookin for a zombie fuck
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| Then get your kicks at the club noc noc (Seattle, WA.)
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| Dancing all ro-bot-ic
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| 120 bmp goin tic toc tic toc
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| Un-dead posers drinking at the bar
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| And broken pretty things that can’t get very far
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| And the 3 legged dogs that are on the the prance
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| I say step aside bitches I’m here to dance
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| Let’s fucking dance |