Motor!
Bed is made so
Camera takes off
All the dress off your body

Blinded by the stage light
Deafen by your own sweet weeping
Vicious child - that's what are you
How much do they pay you?

Sweet sweat sperm
Bitter drugs for conscience sake

Chorus:

Now pray for suicide
Won't help you
World is yours you're the star

You can't feel pain
Being so frigid
So trivial when they tear you

Miles of new heroes
It's just like the war with the roaches
No use if you try to change it
Wish now you are happy

Mongrel you are
Do you see dreams?

Chorus:

Cut.

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