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Let's put a "laughter" into "slaughter"
Turn those ambient red lights on
We'll drink warm bourbon off your feet
Take shots made of your sweat and soul

We'll chew your skin until you scream
The name of your old-fashioned god
A feast of undulating hips
The ballroom madness has begun

Layers of buzzing, cries and pants
Producing an exquisite drone
The air is heavy with the scent
Of pleasure, mead and pheromones

With eyes so wild and smile so wide
Our hall of fame awaits your call
You're such a perfect piece of game
You'll leave no trace but pools of gore

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.