You were right all along. The night's never dark enough.
Queen of the undressed - that's what I'm talking about.
It's the trite in your hit parade, without any doubt.
It's the musk in your masquerade that's making me shout.
I wanna launch an attack.
You're only good when you're on your back.
We do it all to please. Listen to the radio burn obscene.
Wear a nice dress to bed, we'll paint ourselves grey and pretend we're dead.
Yeah, pretend we're dead.
Yeah, until we're dead.
Yeah, 'til we're dead.

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