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One, two, three, four |
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Five, six, seven, eight |
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I am the raping sunglass gaze |
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Of sweating man and escort agencies60's |
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Alienation the anthem of care |
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Now a knife constantly slashing eyelids |
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Slavery to the beat |
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Slavery to the chord |
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Slavery to the pleasure |
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Slavery to the |
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GodSlavery to the beat |
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Slavery to the chord |
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Slavery to the pleasure |
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Slavery to the |
|
GodThey dig the new scene and their parties |
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Where Stonehenge is worshiped and drugs a deity |
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Vicarious thrills rerun their youth |
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We follow, we have no voice, the dead |
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Radio nostalgia is radio death |
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I wanna cover diamonds on my wife |
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Hard rock nostalgia the |
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Stones on |
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CDTranquilized icons for the sweet paralyzed |
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Slavery to the beat |
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Slavery to the chord |
|
Slavery to the pleasure |
|
Slavery to the |
|
GodSlavery to the beat |
|
Slavery to the chord |
|
Slavery to the pleasure |
|
Slavery to the |
|
GodSo cool, the new sound of the decade |
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Thinks it's so fresh not a post |
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Elvis still |
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All taste is nothing old pictures blow dried |
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Rebellion, it always sells at a profit |
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I am a face of fashion in |
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Soho Square |
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My tie is |
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Paul Smith or |
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GaultierMy cheeks blood red as my favorite port |
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But, hey, cocaine keeps cholesterol at bay |
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Slavery to the beat |
|
Slavery to the chord |
|
Slavery to the pleasure |
|
Slavery to the |
|
GodSlavery to the beat |
|
Slavery to the chord |
|
Slavery to the pleasure |
|
Slavery to the |
|
God, some |
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God |
